


Logan's Fight.

by LoganThrives (LadyAnatares)



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Attempted Kidnapping, Blood and Violence, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fluff, Genderfluid Character, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Logan and Lucifer are not on great terms, Logan is AFAB, M/M, Multi, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Timeline Shenanigans, Unrequitted romantic feelings, but that might change, soft luci
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 22,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24189307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAnatares/pseuds/LoganThrives
Summary: Sooo this is another stolen prompt from Fellulahh on Tumblr, where they pitched the idea of someone watching over MC in the human world after the exchange program. I kind of took that and put my own spin on it with my OC in a big way and it spawned a multi-part mini fic that I'm still obsessively writing. Not canon to The Devil You Don't, this is just a what-if/side story.A forgotten security feature on his D.D.D. alerts Diavolo that you're in danger in the human world. What does he find when he rushes to your aid?
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 152





	1. Jumped.

Diavolo was having tea out in the garden when his D.D.D. made an unfamiliar sound. Opening it, he found a strange message on the screen.

“My Lord?” Barbatos inquired softly, just in the process of setting the table for the Prince and his guest, Lucifer, who was due to arrive shortly. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m not sure,” Diavolo frowns, reading the message. “It’s an old alarm app that is tied to Lucifer’s D.D.D., honestly I’d forgotten all about it. It reads the state of his soul and sends an alert should he be in trouble, whether physically, mentally, or spiritually.”

“Is Master Lucifer well, then?” the butler asks.

“Well, the other odd thing about this,” Diavolo reveals. “Is that it’s placed him in the human world somewhere. But he should be here in Devildom and arriving in just a few minutes, should he not?”

Barbatos’ stoic expression shifts to one of concern.

“… Lord Diavolo,” he begins. “When did you install that app on Lucifer’s D.D.D.?”

“About a decade ago, when he first got it. Why?”

“And you updated it when he got his _new_ D.D.D. just under two years ago, I’m sure?”

Diavolo pales as he realizes what Barbatos is subtly trying to remind him of.

That Lucifer’s old D.D.D., the one that had the alarm app tied to it…

… Was given to _you_. The human exchange student.

The app is reading _your_ soul, telling him that _you’re_ in danger!

“Apologize to Lucifer for me!” Diavolo shouts, throwing himself out of his chair as he races into the castle to cross the main hall. Barbatos nods dutifully at the hurried Prince’s back.

Diavolo dials his contact in the Celestial Realm for emergency permission to travel to the human world. He curses under his breath at the formality – if it weren’t for the conditions of their tenuous alliance he wouldn’t have bothered – but he agrees to the terms nonetheless as he tears his way through town for the portal.

He’s not allowed to interfere with mortal destiny. He’s not allowed to expose his demon form. He’s not allowed to kill any mortal for any reason.

Breaking bones and flaying them was still blissfully on the table, should it be necessary to ensure your safety.

Permission secured, he leaps through the portal like a bat out of Hell. In the human world, his D.D.D. starts to give him more accurate information on where to find you. At least he was able to shift the exit location to come out somewhere near you.

He runs at demonic speed to the location his D.D.D. tells him he can find you.

“… _That’ll_ teach you, you dense _motherfuckers!_ ”

… _Logan?_ He slows down when he hears your voice.

Coming around a corner, he sees a car peel off and you running after it with a metal trash can in your hands. You throw it as hard as you can with a grunt, missing the car as it clatters against the pavement and rolls away. You huff at that, bending over double to rest against your knees as you catch your breath.

“… Logan,” Diavolo manages.

You startle at the sound of his voice, turning to face him and staggering backwards. “L-Lord Diavolo??”

You’re a mess. Your clothes have been torn up from a fight he barely witnessed the end of, there is a large red stain over the right side of your shirt, your lip is cracked and bleeding, your face is swelling up, and you have a long cut across the back of your left forearm that’s still trailing blood.

He comes over and takes you into his arms, just glad that he’s found you in one piece.

“… Are you alright?” he asks worriedly.

“I’m fine, just a bit beat up,” you say, wrapping your arms around him. You’re still shivering from the adrenaline. “I’ll recover in a few days. Um… Why are you here?”

“It turns out that I had an old security feature enabled on that D.D.D. I allowed you to take home with you,” he explains, pulling back to brush the hair away from your face. “What happened here?”

“… Apparently this neighbourhood got a lot _shittier_ while I’ve been away,” you scoff. “They said their friend was in trouble. I offered to call 911, and they said they’d already called but it would take them too long to get here. So, idiot samaritan that I am, I followed them because I wanted to help, and it was a trap. They tried to abduct me, in broad daylight.”

“Oh,” you add, whipping your head around looking for something. “My shopping bag-“

“Do you need medical attention?” Diavolo asks you seriously, taking your face in his huge, warm hands.

“… I might need stitches for my arm? One guy had a knife but I knocked it away,” you say numbly. “I don’t know where it landed.”

“Logan,” he says seriously. “There is a large red stain under your right arm-“

“Black cherry soda,” you say, lifting the arm in question as you look at yourself.

“… Pardon?”

“I bought a nice black cherry soda in a glass bottle,” you explain disjointedly, gripping the air with your right hand. “That’s what I fought them off with at first. I was drinking it, holding it in my hand. It got all over me when it broke. … My shirt is all wet and my skin is really sticky,” you add with some disgust. “ _Ugh_ , I could _really_ use a shower.”

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” he nods, holding you by the waist as you wobble on your feet slightly. “Let’s go.”

You look up at him in shock. “Gods, that _wasn’t_ an _invitation!_ ” you fluster defensively. “I don’t… We’re not anything, _are_ we? I meant that- I don’t want to shower _with_ you, I just want to shower _in general_.”

The Demon Prince laughs at that. “I didn’t intend to sound so forward, I just meant that it might help to clear your head. I’m not sure if this is shock or if your injuries are more serious than they appear, but it _would_ help to get you cleaned up and somewhere safe where you can be assessed.”

“Right. I just want my bag of candy first. … _And_ my bag. I don’t think they took it.”

He chuckles. “Of course. Let me help you.”

With Diavolo’s help, you find your purse and shopping bag a short distance away. Diavolo also spots the knife with your blood on it, and discretely tucks that into his belt for safekeeping. Once your things are back in your possession, he supports your waist as you limp alongside him.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, you snap back to reality as you’re led to a steaming bath in a fancy castle bathroom. You blink dumbly as you look upwards at the vaulted ceilings and rich décor.

“This isn’t my house,” you comment. “Lord Diavolo, why am I back in the Devildom?”

“My Lord has a meeting with Lucifer he was late for, so apologies that he is not here to answer your question,” Barbatos responds, and you nearly jump out of your skin as he just seems to appear next to you. Just how out of it _were_ you just now?

“But, if I were to guess,” he continues. “I would say that my Lord likely brought you here as he considers it to be the safest place for you in the three worlds for the moment.”

“… Am I going back to the human world after… Taking a _bath_ , apparently?” you blink, looking at the oversized tub.

“I don’t know what his plans are yet, I’m sorry I can’t be of more assistance,” he bows.

“Um… That’s okay,” you fret. “I’ll just try and talk to him later, I guess.”

“I’ll mention it to him,” he nods. “For now though, would you like for me to wash you and tend to your wounds, or would you be more comfortable looking after that yourself?”

You’ve never been sure where Barbatos lands on the spectrum in terms of sexuality, but in spite of not knowing that as well as his overwhelming professionalism, you’re just generally more comfortable not being nude in front of strange men. “I think I can manage on my own. Can I call if I change my mind, though?” you ask.

“Of course. Your D.D.D. is on the edge of the tub right next to you. I am just a call away. I will also leave the first aid supplies on the counter for you.”

“Thanks, Barbatos. I really appreciate it,” you smile at him.

He smiles back, setting aside some towels he collected for you and bowing once more before leaving the room, shutting the huge door behind himself. Alone, you waste no time in stripping down and sliding into the bath, even if you’re a bit slow at it with your aching and bruised body.


	2. In the Devil's Care.

“Thank you for your hard work as always, my friend,” Diavolo says, facing Lucifer and offering him his hand in the main hall.

Lucifer smiles faintly as he reaches to take the prince’s outstretched hand, but stops short of it as he frowns.

“Lord Diavolo, why… Is there a _knife_ , tucked into your belt?” Is that _blood_ on it, as well? It still looks fairly fresh.

Diavolo starts in surprise. “Oh! I had forgotten about that,” he says, tapping his side where the handle rests.

“My Lord, sometimes you can be too casual about alarming things,” Lucifer groans. “Where _exactly_ did it come from? And whose blood is on it?”

“The human world, actually,” the Prince answers. “As for the blood, _well_ -“

“… Diavolo?”

Lucifer’s eyes snap towards the top of the stairs overlooking the main hall. His teeth nearly grind down into _powder_ at what he sees.

It’s _you_ , wearing one of Diavolo’s dressing robes for his guests, with visible bruises and bandages on your face, arms, and legs.

“… Oh, sorry,” you apologize under the Morning Star’s scrutinizing gaze. “I didn’t realize Lucifer was still here.”

“That’s alright, Logan. Are you feeling better?” he asks.

“… _My Lord_ ,” Lucifer seethes, barely able to restrain himself from attacking the Prince for his apparent msideeds. “Do you have an explanation for why _Logan_ is here? _Injured_ , no less, and… And wearing a _guest’s robe?_ ”

Diavolo turns and takes him by the shoulders. “Of course I have an explanation for this. Lucifer, you’re over-reacting,” he attempts.

“ _Am_ I?!” he snarls, shrugging off the next King of the Devildom and taking on his demon form. “ _You_ were the one who sent Logan back to the human world, or was that all a _lie?_ ”

“Lucifer, _stop it!_ ” you call out, stomping your foot. And then cry out in pain. You crumple to the floor as you aggravate your sprained ankle. _Ow_.

Gloved hands pick you up from the floor and survey you, bringing your face up to meet his crimson eyes. “What has he _done_ to you, Logan?”

“I was in a _fight!_ ” you shout at him.

“… You _were?_ ” he asks, alarmed.

“ _Yes!_ Back in the human world,” you scoff, looking away from him to rub at your puffy eye. “I guess I took the wrong way home. Some guy said somebody needed help so I followed him, next thing I knew his two friends drive up in a car from _nowhere_ and try to pull me inside.”

“Tell me everything,” he asks, drawing you into his chest.

“… I hurt them. I fought like my life depended on it, because it probably did,” you shudder. “I got… One of them got me with a knife, but just a cut. I broke a glass bottle and got one in the eye with it. I punched at them, I kicked them, all while they swung at me and grabbed me. I don’t know, it’s just all sort of blurred together now, but I just did whatever I could to make it not _worth_ it to take me, and in the end they left on their own.”

You pull away from him slightly to look at Diavolo, who has climbed the stairs slowly so as not to alarm Lucifer, who is still in demon form. “Lord Diavolo showed up out of the blue just as I was throwing stuff at them to try and break another window on their fucking car. I missed,” you chortle out uncomfortably.

“This all happened only moments before you got here, Lucifer,” the Prince gently explains. “I received an alarm from your old D.D.D. – now Logan’s D.D.D. – that he was in trouble, and rushed to his defense. I found Logan injured and behaving oddly, so I offered him a bath and medical care. This is why I was late for our afternoon tea today.”

Lucifer considers the retelling of the fight from the both of you, his wings folding inward and disappearing from sight, pulling you into his chest and cradling you against him. “… I’m glad you are safe,” he hums quietly, tucking your head under his chin.

“… Lord Diavolo, _why_ did you keep the knife?” you ask curiously, spying it on his belt.

He withdraws it and sets it down flat on the wide railing in front of both of you, stepping back. “A knife imbued with Celestial blood can be a tremendously powerful focus for a witch,” he explains. “Even though Logan is human, his Celestial heritage might come through on such an item. So, I did not want to just leave that for someone to find. Especially not when it’s _your_ blood that’s on it, Logan.”

“… Someone could do something really bad to me if they had my blood,” you understand. “And… Knives are _particularly_ dangerous to be anointed with blood.”

“Someone remembers their studies well,” Lucifer soothes, stroking your hair.

“Right,” Diavolo adds, folding his arms and nodding seriously. “I intend to cleanse it with a ritual and dispose of it safely.”

“Uhm…” you say, drawing away from Lucifer and looking between him and Diavolo. “But… I’m not really supposed to _be_ here anymore, right? My exchange term is up. Soo, am I going _home_ today, or…?”

“I was meaning to come discuss that with you after Lucifer left, but… Well, I suppose he’ll just have to be part of the discussion,” he grins. “Lucifer, I would like to keep Logan here at the castle until he is fully healed, although I can already sense your coming rejection.”

“I want Logan to stay at the House of Lamentation instead,” Lucifer counters. “My brothers and I will gladly attend to his every need.”

“And will you let him return to the human world once he is fully healed?” Diavolo challenges.

“It would seem that the human world isn’t safe for him,” Lucifer smirks.

“ _Guys_ , it was a one-time thing!” you huff. “I just won’t take that way home again. Problem solved!”

“But what if these men come looking for you?” Lucifer demands, taking your chin in a hand to look at you seriously. “I can’t allow you to be in danger like that again.”

“… Lucifer,” Diavolo interjects, his voice stern. “You know that Logan cannot stay in the Devildom forever, it isn’t safe for humans here. However, I _am_ happy to table this discussion until Logan is fully healed.”

You look conspiratorially up at Lucifer before turning to Diavolo. “… We should set a timeline. It takes a long time for bruises to completely heal, and I don’t think I should overstay my welcome. A few days is all I need to be back in fighting form, maybe a week at most.”

“A week and not a day more,” Diavolo agrees. “After that, we will discuss your return to the human world. And yes, you can stay at the House of Lamentation, provided the brothers actually let you rest. I will personally come by to check on you as well.”

“I don’t like your choice of words there, Logan,” Lucifer frowns. “You shouldn’t be fighting anyone.”

“I _really_ don’t make a habit of it, you know,” you roll your eyes. “Now, if you pair of mother hens are done _pecking_ at me, I feel like I could probably sleep for a year.”

“Ah, of course,” Diavolo nods. “Barbatos?” he calls out.

You yelp as Lucifer scoops you up in a bridal carry, carefully taking the stairs down to the main hall.

“Yes, my lord?” Barbatos materializes next to the Prince.

“… I was going to ask if you had a room made up for Logan, but,” he sighs, watching the demon leave with his beloved. “I suppose Lucifer had another idea.”

“Let me _down_ you jerk!” you flail, lightly beating at his chest in protest. “You don’t need to _carry_ me, I can still _walk!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> His beloved = Diavolo recognizing that Lucifer has strong romantic feelings for you. Dia hasn't caught feelings... Yet.
> 
> Sorry if that was confusing, I'm still picking away at this impromptu mess :P


	3. Home Sweet Home.

After much back and forth, Lucifer let you hobble a few steps towards the House of Lamentation before you finally reluctantly agreed that it was slower and that it did hurt to try and limp along on a sprained ankle, so you let him pick you up again. It still felt a bit mortifying to be carried like that, but you couldn’t disagree that he was _much_ faster with his brisk pace.

You _did_ have to hold the bottom of the short silk robe closed, though, knowing it must be particularly revealing in this position. Your underwear was about the only clothing item to survive the fight, though it _was_ a little stained with black cherry soda. Rinsing them out in the sink didn’t help much.

Once back at the House of Lamentation, he brings you straight to the common room and sets you down on the centre couch that faces the TV on the opposite wall. You’re really crashing from your earlier adrenaline high, and the pain killers Barbatos left you are starting to work, so it’s a struggle to keep your eyes open. All you know is that he left the room.

“Logan, Logan!” someone shakes you awake from your side.

“Gah, _what?_ ” you complain. “Oh, hi Mammon,” you greet, smiling softly as the Avatar of Greed props you upright. You reach up and ruffle his hair weakly.

When you snap back to attention, the other six brothers are suddenly assembled around you.

“What the hell _happened_ to you??” Belphie demands.

“You poor thing, just _look_ at you,” Asmo whines. “I don’t think I have anything that can cover that bruise under your eye, darling. Aww, and your beautiful _lip!_ ”

“Lucifer said you were in a fight?” Satan questions, anger on the edges of his voice.

“If you think _I_ look bad, you should’ve seen the _other_ guy,” you grin as you joke lamely. “No but seriously, I think I might’ve destroyed his eye. You know, he should probably get that looked at.”

“… Why didn’t you call us?” Beel frowns, stomach rumbling audibly. “That’s what the pacts are for, right? You’re supposed to call us when you’re in trouble.”

“That’s right,” Levi sobs. “You should’ve summoned me! I’d have come running.”

You look up at the six worried faces surrounding you, feeling guilty that you didn’t use the protection they so freely gave you.

“… I didn’t think of it, I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I just went into fight or flight mode and gave it all I had. If I’d had a moment to think I might have.”

That, _and_ you might be mildly terrified about what they would actually _do_ to the humans who attacked you. You’ve seen them in spats with other demons before, but other demons can take it, for the most part.

“Where are these humans who hurt you?” Belphegor asks icily. “Have they been dealt with?”

“I fought them off,” you inform him. “I just did as much damage as I could so I wasn’t worth taking.”

Satan chuckles darkly. “That’s our Logan.”

“They tried to _kidnap_ ya!?” Mammon seethes, standing from the couch. “That’s it. I’m goin’ to the human world to find these creeps! Who’s with me!?”

“You absolutely will _not_.”

Lucifer reappears with an ice pack and a large, steaming mug of something. His brothers are pushed out of the way as he makes his way over to sit beside you. “… The priority right now is ensuring Logan is safe while he heals,” he continues, offering you the ice pack. “Logan, for your eye.”

“Oh, thanks- _geez_ that’s cold,” you whimper, patting it against your face as you try and get used to the temperature.

“I’ve also brought you some soup,” the first born adds.

“… That’s really nice Lucifer, thank you,” you blink. “I guess I _am_ a little hungry. I didn’t even get to finish my soda.” You’re not used to the first born being _quite_ so soft and endearing, looking after you like this in front of his brothers.

“I _knew_ you smelled sweet to me,” Beel sniffs. “Did you get it on you or something?”

Your knees knock together defensively. “… It might have spilled on my clothes a bit,” you admit.

The guys continue to bombard you with questions and talk about how much they missed you while your brain gets hazier and hazier by the minute. After a while of giving disjointed answers, your eyes fall closed and your head tilts sideways into someone’s waiting shoulder, jolting you back awake.

“… I’m really sorry guys,” you say softly. “I’m crashing from all the adrenaline earlier and I just need some sleep.”

“Right, you need some rest,” Belphie nods. “Come here Logan, let’s get you to bed.”

“Oh _no_ , I don’t think so!” Mammon complains defensively. “You’re just gunna get handsy with Logan in _your_ room, aren’t ya?!”

“ _You’re_ one to talk,” Satan scoffs.

“Yeah, Mammon, you were probably wanting to do the exact same thing,” Asmo laughs.

“Excuse me, but Logan’s _my_ nap buddy?” Belphie grumbles. “And you know I won’t do anything with Beel there anyways. We share a room, remember?”

“… Isn’t my old room available?” you ask, eyes closing again, and feeling a bit confused why they’re fighting now.

“Yeahhh, about that…” Levi trails off.

“ _Somebody_ recently bought out Akuzon’s entire supply of Ruri-chan branded food again~,” Asmo rolls his eyes. “We’ve been using your old room and the attic room to store it all.”

“I can move it!!” Levi flusters. “I-I mean, we didn’t know that Logan was going to be back so soon! It’s no big deal!”

“So, now we just have to figure out whose bed you end up in,” Satan reveals.

“Logan,” Mammon beckons you. “I don’t trust any of these guys. Come sleep in my room, alright?”

“Well _nobody_ trusts _you_ either,” Satan scoffs. “Logan, you can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.”

“ _Satan~!_ But that’s so bad for your back!” Asmo scolds him gently. “And anyways, aren’t you all forgetting who the _King_ of aftercare in this room is? If Logan picks _me_ , not only will he get a _perfect_ night’s rest, but I’ll spend the _whole night_ tending to those _nasty_ cuts and bruises.”

“That won’t be the _only_ thing you’re doing,” Belphie huffs. “ _Nobody_ trusts you not to get handsy with Logan either.”

You lose track of the conversation as you nod off again, just hearing the brothers all bickering and fighting over you again makes you feel at home, in a weird way.

“ **Enough**.”

You’re scooped up from your position on the couch in a pair of strong arms. You wake up just enough to grip the bottom of the robe closed again.

“Logan will stay in my room tonight,” Lucifer announces, expecting no argument.

“… Nope! I’m not okay with that,” Mammon refuses.

“You’re always trying to get Logan alone, I don’t like it,” Belphie adds. “Why would we trust _you_ over anyone else?”

“You’re _just_ as infatuated with Logan as the rest of us, _honestly!_ ” Asmo scolds.

“Right now Logan’s health and safety are my priority,” you hear the Avatar of Pride declare unwaveringly. “You don’t have to like it, but if any of you try and interfere with his recovery then expect to find yourself hanging from the chandelier for several days.”

That’s the last thing you remember before you lose your second fight of the day against sleep.


	4. Midnight Snack.

You feel hands sitting you up hours later.

Information trickles in in bits and pieces – you’re sitting in a bed, the sheets are black and soft to the touch, you’re still wearing that silken robe from earlier, the room is darkly lit, and the person in bed next to you is…

… _Lucifer?_

You pull your knees to your chest even as the soreness in your body starts to register again. His crimson red eyes scan you with a concerned look on his face as he withdraws his hands. He’s wearing a sleeping robe of his own, which has fallen open over his chest and his hair is tussled from sleep.

“… I apologize for waking you,” he says softly. “It occurred to me that you didn’t eat anything earlier and I wanted to make sure you had something. Also,” he adds, rumbling with amusement. “Your stomach was protesting quite loudly. For a moment I thought Beel had gotten into my room.”

“… Oh,” is all you can say.

“What would you like for dinner?” he offers genially. “Although it is quite late for it, I can prepare something for you, or I can have something ordered in.”

You actually _are_ pretty hungry, now that you think about it. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Something easy? Like, maybe a melon bread and some yogurt?”

“I’m not sure we have those,” he frowns. “But, I will try to find something appropriate.”

He rolls away from you to get out of bed on the opposite side of you, heading towards the door.

“… Did I wake you?” you ask apologetically. “With my noisy stomach?”

He turns and sighs, a slight smile playing at his features. “I slept very fitfully, actually,” he reveals, fixing his hair by running his fingers through it. “It’s not your fault.”

“Insomnia? Bad dreams?” you ask. You know that he struggles with sleepless nights from time to time.

He smiles warmly at that. “Save your energy, you don’t need to waste it on concern for my well-being. Now, stay right there, I will be back momentarily with some food for you.”

He turns away to open his door finally, and you see his whole body tense up as he folds his arms in irritation.

“… Mam _mon_ ,” he rumbles dangerously.

A fluffy head of white hair jerks forward, waking up instantly at Lucifer’s threatening tone. “Uhh, _what?!_ ”

You snicker at the Avatar of Greed’s antics as he rises unsteadily to his feet, shuffling his clothes back into place.

“What _exactly_ do you think you’re doing sleeping on the floor outside of my room?” the eldest scoffs.

“I wasn’t sleeping!” he protests. “I was standin’ watch!”

“You weren’t doing much standing that _I_ saw,” Lucifer snorts. “And I warned you, if you interfered with Logan’s rest and care…”

“Oh, leave him be,” you call out, reaching with your arms. “Mammon, come over here, I want a hug.”

The second eldest brother grins brightly at you, shoving past Lucifer and into your waiting arms.

“ _Ah!_ ” you wince. “A gentler hug than _that!_ ”

“ _Shit_ ,” he curses. “I didn’t know ya were so fragile, can ya really blame me?”

“Yes??” you laugh, tousling his hair.

“… Very well, then,” Lucifer sighs dejectedly from the doorway. “I suppose my brother can watch over you while I get you something to eat.”

“Um, thank you Lucifer,” you tell him.

His mood brightens at that. He nods, then disappears down the hallway.

“… He didn’t touch ya, did he?” Mammon whispers to you.

“I thought Envy was supposed to be Levi’s thing,” you tease him, booping his nose. “Look at _you_ getting all protective on my behalf again.”

“Tch, not because I _like_ ya or nothin’!” he scoffs, blushing furiously.

“ _Suuure_ it’s not.”

“But, we were talkin’,” he continues. “And we don’t like that Lucifer dragged you off to his room right away.”

“I mean he’s just playing nurse, isn’t?” you frown. “Besides, he doesn’t even _like_ me in that way. If anything, he barely tolerates me most days.”

Mammon furrows his brows, incredulous at what you just said to him. Then he pokes at your face, checking over your swollen eye.

“How hard did those guys hit ya?” he grumbles.

“ _Ah_ , Mammon, that’s _sore!_ ” you complain.

“Did ya hit your head anywhere else? Ya got, I dunno, _concussed_ or anythin’?”

“What are you saying?”

“Logan,” he grunts. “Pretty sure Lucifer’s like, in _love_ with ya, or somethin’.”

“… _What?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha, soft Luci is confusing Logan. These two weren't on great terms in my history of them, and tended to butt heads a lot. I'm also skipping over the whole pact thing in the canon storyline/in their history as if the conversation in the secret study just never happened, so that Logan has even less reason to believe Lucifer wants or has any interest in him.
> 
> Not sure when the next chapter's going to happen or what's going to be in it, also the total chapters is an estimate and may increase or decrease as writing happens. Subscribe to stay tuned <3


	5. Wounded Pride.

“Mind running that one by me again?”

Mammon frowns and casts a conspiratorial glance towards the open bedroom door. “Lucifer’s been sleeping rough since the day ya left,” he reveals. “He won’t talk about much of anything, and I caught him checking out your Devilgram more than a couple of times.”

“That’s not really evidence of anything,” you huff. “You’ve probably been doing the same thing, you know.”

“Well _yeah_ , ‘cause I missed ya!” he pouts. “Look, you seriously don’t know how much he cares about you??”

“Since _when?_ ” you demand. “He’s _always_ been the nastiest to me, _especially_ when you all started wanting to give me your pacts, and he flew off the handle when he figured out that it was to free Belphegor!”

Then again, he _has_ been very soft and nice with you since yesterday, holding you protectively against himself at the Demon Lord’s castle when he saw how injured you were. And, he wasn’t _so_ intolerable the last month or so that you were in the Devildom for your exchange program. In fact, he _did_ take you out to dinner to thank you the night before Diavolo’s birthday…

“It’s ‘cause you’re always talkin’ back to demons!” the Avatar of Greed reveals. “You’re both so _stubborn_ too, no wonder ya didn’t see it. I’m not even sure _he_ knows-“

“Knows _what?_ ”

Lucifer is standing in the doorway, a tray of food in his hands. You can’t quite see everything on it from this angle, but it looks like he brought you a variety of foods.

“… Nothin’,” Mammon deflects poorly.

“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Lucifer sighs. “Logan, I wasn’t sure what would be amenable for your stomach, so I prepared a few different things for you.”

… Yeah, you’re not sure you can get used to the idea of Lucifer being _in love_ with you.

“… Do you mind if I take it to Mammon’s room?” you ask. “I want to sleep the rest of tonight there.”

“What?! _Really?_ ” the greedy demon exclaims in surprise.

He looks crestfallen. “Is there something wrong with my room?” he asks.

“No, no, and thank you Lucifer, for looking out for me,” you say earnestly. “It’s just that… Mammon and I want to finish our conversation. I didn’t realize so much has happened already, I’ve only been gone a _week_.”

It’s a gamble, but it _may_ work. After all, for all the teasing and shit he gets from his brothers, Lucifer trusted _Mammon_ to be the one to protect you when you first came to the Devildom.

And you’re not sure you feel comfortable sharing a bed with _Lucifer_ any longer, now that you know he has feelings for you.

He turns and sets the tray down on his dresser, then faces the two of you with his arms folded. “I believe there was a discussion just this afternoon about him potentially being _inappropriate_ with you?” he reminds you both sternly.

“C-Come _on_ , I’m not gunna do nothin’ to Logan when he’s beat up like this!” he protests. “Give me SOME credit!”

“And even if he _did_ , my pacts still work right?” you add. “I can _make_ him keep his hands to himself, if it really came down to it.”

Lucifer studies the two of you carefully, sighing in mild frustration. “Logan, I want you to stay here,” he says. “I don't know what my brother might’ve said to you in order to get you to go with him, but I am not sure that he can even see to the kind of care and attention you require.”

“Oh come _on_ ,” you groan. “I mean _yeah_ , I’m a little stiff and a _lot_ sore but I’m not _disabled!_ I don’t really need a lot besides rest and some painkillers. Besides, it was _my_ idea, not Mammon’s.”

“No, I must refuse,” he asserts.

“But _Lucifer_ -“

“I need to know that you’re okay,” he huffs. “The best way I can know that is to look after you myself.”

You blink, a bit stunned at his boldness. Mammon raises his eyebrows and grins at you, as if silently communicating with his eyes ‘Told ya so’.

“Now, if my brother would get off of my bed, and back to _his own room_ ,” Lucifer scowls.

“Yeah, yeah, or you’ll string me up from the chandelier for a week! I get it already!” Mammon flippantly dismisses, getting off the bed and heading for the door. Lucifer wastes no time in shutting it behind him.

Sighing, you watch Lucifer as he brings over the tray of food, a small smile playing at his lips. “You don’t have to clear everything from it,” he assures you, when you notice it’s a lot of food. “I just wanted to be sure you had some variety, in keeping with the theme of things that are easy to eat.”

He’s put a lot of thought into this, you realize as your stomach rumbles at the sight of food. It’s all easy food - things you can eat with your hands or with a spoon. A couple of buttery bread rolls, tender meat kebabs, custard, pudding, sliced fruit, a steaming mug of broth… Did he prepare all of this in the kitchen from _scratch_ , just _now?_ He wasn’t even gone all that long.

You pick up one of the bread rolls, tearing a piece off in your hand and dipping it in the broth before eating it. It’s absolutely _delicious_ , and you’re immediately reaching for more.

He sits down in the bed next to you, pulling the blankets up over his long legs. “I hope it’s not too hot?” he asks, referring to the broth.

“It’s perfect,” you admit, taking a bite of a kebab. “Everything tastes amazing.”

You knew he was a closet culinarian from the few times he actually had time to cook instead of ordering food for his dinner duty, but this is just like… It all tastes so warm and homemade, it’s _exactly_ what your noisy stomach needed.

You start to slow down as you spoon some of the custard into your mouth, craving the rich and creamy flavour of it but having no room left in your stomach.

“Are you finished?” he asks softly, having quietly watched you gobble up every bite you could.

“Yeah, just about I think,” you admit, finally setting down the dish of custard. He’s also left some painkillers on the side, so you down those with the last sip of broth.

He takes the tray off the bed in front of you, disappearing from the room to take it to the kitchen to deal with. You decide to just settle in for sleep in spite of your faint suspicion about Lucifer’s motives – with how uncharacteristically attentive and sweet he’s been, you think you might be okay.

You give the pillow a fluff as you lie down on it, seeing Lucifer re-enter the room just as you yawn. He comes over to you and offers you something.

“Here, this might help with the swelling in your eye,” he comments.

“… What is it?” you ask tiredly.

“A gel sleep mask,” he explains. “One of mine. I put it in the fridge earlier so it would be cold for you.”

“… Oh,” you say, biting your lip. Sleeping in Lucifer’s bed next to him is _one_ thing, but being _blindfolded_ while you’re at it is totally another.

Still though, he basically wants you to stay here until morning. And he’s notoriously bad at letting you have a choice in all matters concerning him. But he wouldn’t try anything when you’re hurt like this, right? Sure he’s a bit of a _jerk_ at times but he’s not _that_ bad.

… You decide to trust him, if only because you know he’ll insist on it. You sit up on your hip and take the mask from him, pulling it into place. It’s very cold, but not so much that it’ll make you sick, you think. By the time you settle back down on your side and snuggle into your pillow, it’s actually not too bad.

“… Thank you, Lucifer,” you say softly. It feels like you haven’t said it enough today, so you want to say it again, just to be safe.

“I’m going to be awake reading for a bit, so let me know if you need anything,” he says.

“’Kay,” you say, sleep coming back for round two already.

You feel his weight on the mattress as he climbs into bed again, shuffling a bit and clearing his throat before settling. Then you hear the pages of a book turning as he softly breathes. It’s actually incredibly soothing to listen to the small sounds he makes just being physically present on the bed with you. You feel lulled into an almost dream state by it – still awake and somewhat aware but just on the _edge_ of consciousness, your body having no energy left to move.

After a while, you hear the click of the lamp being turned off, and feel him shuffle again as he lays down on his side of the large bed. Once his movements still you hear a contented sigh leave him.

… Then you feel his fingers gently brush your hair aside, followed by his warm sculpted lips against your temple in a kiss.


	6. Dirty Little Secret.

It was decided the following morning that you would need a new outfit, and you couldn’t help but to agree. Lucifer kindly offered you one of his dress shirts, but he’s much more broad in his shoulders than you are, and none of his pants fit even with a belt. It felt uncomfortable and a bit like wearing your dad’s clothes. In the end you just gave up on trying to repurpose his wardrobe and kept on the robe.

Besides, you think it feels like a girl day today, and you know _exactly_ who to go to for help with that.

“Of course!” Asmo beams. “In fact, I have a couple of long dresses I picked up from Majolish last time I was there that should fit you like a glove~!”

“You’ve still been shopping for me, even though I went home?” you chuckle. “Asmo, you’re too sweet.”

“I couldn’t help it,” he frowns. “I missed you _sooo_ much~! I figured I’d just have to surprise you with a visit in the human world, but it looks like you surprised me first. Anyways, take that dirty old thing off already and let me dress you~.”

He gives you use of his massive bathroom to change your underthings in – because yes, he even bought you underwear, you sigh, but it’s clean and new and fits well – before barging in with a few colourful dresses over his arm. They’re all very colourful and soft to the touch – one that catches your eye is a bright magenta, but it’s loose and flowing, sleeveless with a cinched waist, and falls all the way to your ankles.

“You want to wear _that_ one?” Asmo asks, shocked. “Is it my _birthday?_ I _never_ get to see you in pink!”

“It looks really comfortable, plus I think it just makes sense,” you smile. “I’m going to need to change my bandages and things, and I’m sure people are going to be fussing over my ankle and stuff, so this is just the most accessible thing.”

He blinks at that, then folds his arms, frowning at you. “Are you feeling okay Logan??”

“I mean, I’m a bit sore all over and walking with a bit of a limp, but otherwise I’m alright,” you shrug.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he sighs softly. “What happened to you… It must have been _very_ frightening! I can’t even _imagine_ what that must have felt like!”

Oh. _Right_.

“… I’m just sort of… Not processing it right now,” you admit. “Because, if I _did_ , I feel like I’d just spend a lot of time wrapped up in it, you know? And I don’t like feeling _vulnerable_ like that. So, for now, I’m just… Faintly _proud_ of myself? For handling it on my own. And just… _Really glad,_ to be in one piece, _and_ to be here with you guys again,” you smile.

“… Come here,” he says, taking your face in his hands and wiping away the tears in your eyes. Then he pulls you into him in a tight hug, before withdrawing and holding you by your shoulders.

“Promise me something,” he asks you seriously. “Next time you’re scared or in trouble like that, you _have_ to call one of us to help you, okay?”

“I don’t really plan on there _being_ a ‘next time’,” you deflect.

“ _Promise_ me~!” he insists, pouting. “I don’t even care if it’s me or if it’s one of my brothers instead, I just can’t _bear_ the thought of you facing something like that alone again!”

“… Okay Asmo, I promise,” you agree.

He beams happily at you, relaxing his posture and caressing your face with a hand. “I’m glad the swelling’s gone down around your eye. Do you want me to see if I can cover it?”

“If you want,” you smile. “I’m all yours for the next little while.”

“In _that_ case,” he grins. “You’ll let me do your hair up too, right? I heard that _Diavolo’s_ coming over this afternoon to see you~,” he teases.

… You _may_ have previously admitted a slight crush on the Prince with Asmo late one night. With how much he needles you about it, you kind of wish you hadn’t.

You swat at him playfully, flustering at the mention of him. “ _Shh!_ You haven’t told anyone, have you?” you scold him.

“Of _course_ not! That’s _our_ dirty little secret,” he hums, pleased at your response. “Though you _know_ , I always have room for a few _more~_.”

* * *

Lucifer paces the hallway outside his brother’s bedroom, unable to sit still while Asmo finds you something to wear. What’s _taking_ him so long? His closet may rival the size of his own bedroom, but he feels like it’s taken an unreasonably long time by now.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor at this rate,” Satan comments boredly from his room, reading a book on his bed with the door open.

“It’s been over an _hour_ ,” Lucifer grumbles.

“And?” the Avatar of Wrath counters. “He’s probably having Logan try everything on. This isn’t that unusual for Asmo, you know.”

Just then the door to Asmodeus’ room opens. Lucifer turns and frowns as it’s his brother coming out of the room first, not you.

“Gentlemen~,” the Avatar of Lust bows dramatically. “With _overwhelming_ pleasure may I present to you, _Lady Logan~!_ ”

You step out from behind him into the hallway, and Lucifer’s breath catches. Satan places a bookmark in his novel and sets it on his bedside table before coming out of his room. He too stops as he takes you in.

“Please don’t start calling me that,” you gently scold him, a bit embarrassed by the title.

The vibrant dress flatters your figure in tantalizing ways, and your hair is done up with loops and curls every which way, showing off your neck and with long thin ringlets framing your face elegantly. His brother has also found some jewelry to match, long shining threads hanging from your ears and a silver chain necklace with a crimson red pendant rests against your collarbone.

“… All right,” Lucifer chuckles. “I suppose this works better than the alternative.”

“He means you look amazing,” Satan clarifies, nodding approvingly. “And for once we can agree. You’ve really outdone yourself Asmo. Logan, do you need someone to help you over to the common room?”

Wordlessly, Lucifer approaches and offers you his arm, a small smile playing at his lips.

“… Nevermind, I guess Lucifer’s offering to do it,” Satan sighs.

Hesitantly, you take his arm as Asmo giggles delightedly at the eldest brother’s forwardness. Lucifer puts a gloved hand over yours, securing you in place.

“Let’s not keep the Prince waiting,” he hums pleasantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :P I know it was Asmo's birthday today and I _do_ have a thing I've been working on for that, but I wanted to write this instead today :/ So have a this, and maybe the other thing will make an appearance tomorrow sometime *shrugs* (warning: it will be _explicit_ )


	7. What Happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning for descriptions of the attempted kidnapping.** I don't know if anybody reading this might have experienced that, but I'm so sorry. _Please_ tread carefully. You can give his chapter a skip if you must, the relevant information will be covered again later.

“Logan! Good afternoon,” Diavolo greets warmly, a pair of baskets hanging from one arm. “You look great today! I assume Asmodeus got a hold of you?”

You fluster a bit at that. “Something like that.”

“… Your eye looks much better over yesterday,” he notices with some surprise.

“It’s not swollen anymore thanks to Lucifer here,” you gesture, patting his arm as he leads you over to the couch to sit down next to the Prince. “And Asmo was able to mostly cover it with makeup. My face is still really tender, though.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Like a _rock_ – that’s thanks to Lucifer, again,” you say, smiling up at the first born. “He’s been taking really good care of me.”

Lucifer seems to smile at your praise. “My Lord, can I take those off your hands?” he asks once you’re comfortable.

“Ah, of course,” Diavolo says, offering him the baskets. He nods towards one of them. “That one is for Beelzebub,” he says. “And the other one is for the rest of you to share. Barbatos couldn’t resist sending along some treats for everyone,” he beams.

“Please pass on my thanks,” Lucifer nods dutifully. “Lord Diavolo, Logan, would either of you like some tea? I will bring a tray of these desserts out with it.”

“Tea would be outstanding,” the Prince agrees.

Lucifer nods, disappearing to the kitchen not far down the hall. You watch him leave before leaning in towards Diavolo to speak softly.

“Okay, so what’s going on with Lucifer anyways?” you question. “He’s _never_ this nice and accommodating.”

The Prince laughs kindly at that. “He really cares for you, Logan. I’m sure he’s just savouring the opportunity to show it.”

You frown at him. “… So did _everyone_ know he has feelings for me? Was I the only one who _didn’t?_ ” you huff.

Diavolo clasps his hands over his knees and leans forward slightly. “I’ve known Lucifer for a very long time,” he begins. “And in all that time, he has always been a very guarded man. I first met him during the worst moment of his entire life, and ever since he’s been _exceptionally_ careful with his emotions, as if showing them properly would mean admitting weakness.”

“… I mean, I guess he isn’t called the Avatar of Pride for nothing,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Believe me, I’ve tried to get him to open up before, many times. It’s just his way. But since we’re on the subject of him, how has he been treating you?”

“He’s basically been glued to my hip since yesterday, only leaving me alone to get me something,” you tell him. “He insisted I sleep in his bed last night, which was _weird_ , but he’s been a gentleman about it. He said he just wanted to make sure I was okay, and needed me nearby to ensure that.”

Diavolo frowns. “Was your old room not available?”

“Apparently it’s full of boxes, thanks to Levi,” you snicker. “Some Ruri-chan promotion must be running again.”

“If Lucifer made you uncomfortable, I can talk with him about it,” he offers. “We have plenty of guest rooms at the castle available, and I know that Barbatos and I would be happy to host you for your stay.”

“… No, it’s okay, I like being here,” you smile. “Thank you for the offer. I just, I wish he’d _listen_ when I told him _no_ sometimes. I’m not trying to _refuse_ him or hurt his pride or whatever, I’m just trying to set _boundaries_ , you know?”

“I’ll talk to him,” he nods.

There’s a moment of silence before his eyes land on your bandaged left arm. “… May I see?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say, offering it to him. You wince as he peels back the tape and gauze, revealing the gash you got on the arm from the knife yesterday. “It’s actually not as deep as I thought? So, no stitches, it just looked a _lot_ worse than it actually is.”

“That’s good,” he nods, lips pressed together in a contemplative expression. “… Logan, I hate to ask you about the fight so soon, but my part in this is to ensure that when you _do_ return to the human world that you will be safe. So, I want to ask you some questions about what happened, to make sure that this really _was_ a one-time fluke and that you won’t be attacked again the moment we send you back.”

“Okay. I don’t remember much, but I’ll do my best,” you agree.

“Thank you,” he smiles reassuringly, replacing the bandage on your arm and smoothing it out. “Can you tell me what happened, starting from the beginning?”

“Well,” you hum. “I had stopped at a tiny convenience store after visiting my aunt and cousins on that side of town, just for some junk food and a drink, because it was hot out. Then, I took a shortcut behind the strip mall when a guy ran up to me asking for help.”

“How did you react?”

“First thing I did was look around – there was nobody else within earshot, I assumed that was why he came up to me,” you say. “It didn’t actually occur to me that my being alone should’ve been a red flag – I sincerely thought he needed my help and that I was the only person he could find. It was dumb.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” the Prince reassures you, taking one of your hands in his. “You have a very pure soul. I know that it’s your nature to want to help others, and I’ve seen it for myself many times.”

“… Well, anyways,” you continue. “Next thing I did was take out my phone and offer to call 911. I thought that maybe he hadn’t thought of that yet? But he said they already called, but it would take them too long. … Red flag number two, I guess, because cops are _always_ in that part of town.”

“What did his friend need help with? Did he say?”

“He was hysterical – he said something like, ‘he’s _bleeding’_ , like, really _desperately_ , and I took that as a cue that maybe he just didn’t really know what to do? He sounded genuinely panicked, so I followed figuring I ought to see how bad it was for myself.”

Diavolo’s surprised. “Do you have some medical training I’m not aware of?”

“I’ve taken first aid classes like a dozen times over since I was a kid,” you tell him. “I’m not like, _medically_ trained, but I figure I know the basics well enough to help stop bleeding while waiting for an ambulance to get there? The only reason it wasn’t on my admission paperwork is because you’re supposed to renew it _yearly_ , and it’s been a couple for me.”

“I see. And then what happened?”

“Well,” you hesitate. “… I turned the corner and a car was there with the back door open and a guy inside. That’s actually when I started to get suspicious – a bit too late, I know – and when I stopped to try and assess if the guy in the back seat was actually injured, the guy I was following got behind me and tried to shove me inside, while the guy inside tried to pull me in with him.”

“So, there were two men and a driver, is that correct?”

“Right. I didn’t see anyone else.”

“Did you recognize any of them?”

You shake your head. “No, I’ve never seen them before. … I don’t know that I could reliably describe them, either,” you add. “It’s all still just _blurry_.”

“What kind of car was it?”

“… A _grey_ one,” you shrug apologetically. “With four doors?”

He chuckles. “That’s alright, anything you can remember at all is helpful. Did any of them say anything?”

“… I think the driver was giving orders for most of it? There was just, a _lot_ of shouting,” you say, struggling to try and remember. “A lot of swearing, too. Calling me a bitch and whatnot.”

“Do you remember anything specific?”

“… I don’t know- _Oh_ ,” you remember. “After I knocked the knife away, the driver started yelling ‘shit’ a lot and for the others to get the knife.”

“So the knife was important to them,” he nods seriously. “Was that before or after you had been cut with it?”

“After. Yeah, he just started demanding ‘Get the knife! Get the knife!’ over and over again.”

He frowns deeply at that. “… I think that’s enough for today. Thank you, Logan, you’ve been very helpful.”

“I mean, I could say the same for you, right?” you smile weakly. “I’m just sort of hanging out while you try and fix my problems for me.”

“Well, I can’t very well have my favourite exchange student getting attacked right after she leaves the program, now can I?” he hums proudly.

“ _Me?_ I thought _Simeon_ was your favourite,” you tease.

“… Okay, you’ve caught me. Favourite _human_ exchange student,” he teases back.

You scoff and playfully swat his arm, and he laughs boisterously at that.

And then you burst into tears.

“… Logan?!” he asks, alarmed.

He pulls a handkerchief from his dress uniform pocket to give you for your eyes, then pulls you into his side and wraps his arms around you to comfort you. Diavolo makes you feel so small in his huge muscular arms, but _very_ safe.

“Um, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face. You struggle against a sob as you feel the heat behind your eyes of more tears threatening to spill. “I’m a bit delayed on processing what happened… It just hit me out of _nowhere_ , that… That _happened_.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he assures you, rubbing your back.

“No but like, we were having a _moment_ ,” you scoff, trying to push down the emotions and bring the conversation back to something lighter. “I don’t _want_ to cry and be miserable. I’m _safe_ right now, I’m right where I really feel at home and where I want to be, and…”

“If I had known this would’ve happened, I would never have sent you back.”

Your breath catches as your eyes burn. “… Do you really mean that?”

“Lord Diavolo.”

Both of you turn to look up at the Avatar of Pride, now holding a tray with a tea set and some sweets on a plate for the three of you.

“… I was only gone five minutes at _most_ ,” Lucifer drawls unhappily. “ _Why_ is Logan currently crying into your shoulder?”


	8. Conditions of Release.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lucifer sighs where he’s seated next to you again. “Logan…”

You fold your arms indignantly. “Look, Lord Diavolo is visiting and we have the tea you made and all the nice treats Barbatos sent us,” you deflect. “Can’t we just sit and visit for a little while?”

The Prince stands from the couch, a slightly forced smile on his face. “Actually, I’m afraid I can’t stay any longer, I have other matters to attend to.”

“But- _Diavolo!_ ” you scold him.

“Sorry, Logan,” he apologizes. “Lucifer, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to speak with you for a moment before I leave.”

The first born hesitates as he looks to him, then to you. Sighing, he nods and stands from the couch to follow him, leaving you alone with a whole pot of tea and a full plate of sweets.

You huff, shuffling towards the table to pour yourself a cup of tea and chowing down on a delicious cake bar.

“… What smells good in here?”

You look up to see Beel in the archway, having stopped to take in the scents of the food laid out in front of you.

“… Get over here, big guy,” you invite. “Barbatos gave us some snacks.”

* * *

“Am I understood?”

“Forgive me if I still don’t quite grasp the reason for your lecture,” Lucifer frowns. “Have I done anything wrong, my Lord?”

Diavolo sighs. “I know that you just want to be sure that Logan is safe and heals well,” he begins. “But it is concerning when her wishes are ignored with you. She mentioned that you insisted she spend the night in your room, as opposed to somewhere else of her choosing.”

… Right. _That_.

“… I didn’t think it would be wise to leave her in Mammon’s care for the night,” he argues.

“Well, regardless of whether you felt it wise or not, giving her control over her situation is the best way to help her recover from the traumatic event she’s obviously still working through,” the Prince suggests. “So, as I said; from now on, treat such requests from Logan with the same authority as you do my orders.”

That’s a hard pill to swallow. Logan is a _human_ , and one that he doesn’t even have a pact with. Distant relative and… _Feelings_ , aside… This is _his_ house, and he’s not usually one to take orders from his guests.

“… Very well then, my Lord,” he nods. “And how far does Logan’s new authority over me extend?” he challenges.

Diavolo smiles knowingly. “Just things related to her care and comfort of course. That’s all.”

“I believe I can comply with that, then,” Lucifer grins.

“Glad that that’s settled! Now, would Satan be in his room at this time of day?”

Lucifer’s surprised. “That was where I last saw him, but what business do you have with my brother?”

* * *

“… Lord Diavolo?”

Satan’s surprised to find the future King of the Devildom standing in his doorway. He lets out an irritated breath as he places a bookmark in his novel, setting it aside before he stands from his bed.

“Sorry to disturb you, Satan, but I have an assignment for you,” Diavolo states seriously, his arms folded over his chest.

The Avatar of Wrath narrows his eyes at him. “No, I don’t think so,” he refuses instantly.

Diavolo’s mildly surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t know what you think our relationship is,” Satan continues. “But it’s my brother _Lucifer_ that’s your puppet, not me.”

“Ah, I see,” the demon Prince hums. “Then, let me rephrase; I need someone to help me find those who attacked Logan in the human world. Is that an assignment that interests you?”

 _That_ catches his attention, but leave it to Lord Diavolo to dangle something so tempting in front of him to get him to dance on his strings. “… I’m listening,” he says, still guarded.

He watches carefully as Diavolo reaches inside of his uniform, withdrawing a long, slender box tucked away out of sight. He then crosses the room and holds out the box, opening the lid.

Satan almost reflexively shifts into his demon form at the sight of it. There’s still blood on it.

“… There’s magic on this, I can _taste_ it,” he scowls angrily. “Is _that_ what they used to hurt Logan?”

“Yes,” Diavolo confirms. “And from Logan’s retelling of events, what happened yesterday doesn’t sound random.”

“Then it was _planned_ ,” he hisses. “They wanted her from the start.”

“My access to the human world is limited by the conditions of our cease-fire with the Celestial Realm, and I know that Lucifer won’t want to let Logan out of his sight, so I need someone who can find out why she was targeted in the first place and by whom,” the Prince explains. “I know you’re talented with magic, Satan, and I _also_ know your fondness for detective novels, so I thought this assignment would be a natural fit for you,” he adds with a smirk.

Satan looks at the knife, then at the Prince, considering his options. Finally, he nods. “Very well, I’ll take on your assignment – for Logan, not for _you_ ,” he adds. “Are there any other conditions or strings attached that I should be aware of?”

“Just one,” Diavolo grins, closing the box and offering it to him. “You can’t kill anyone in the human world, regardless of their level of responsibility in what happened to Logan.”

“That’s a shame, but alright-“

Satan grips the box, but Diavolo doesn’t let it go right away.

“And to ensure that,” the Prince adds. “I want you to take one of your brothers with you on your investigation. Not Lucifer or Belphegor,” he clarifies.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Satan scoffs.

“Well, I can’t very well turn the Avatar of Wrath loose on the human world without a watchful eye over him,” he insists. “That’s my only condition.”

He bristles at the implication that he can’t handle himself, but he can also appreciate the wisdom in Diavolo’s condition. If he did find out who did this to Logan, and didn’t have someone there to stop him…

“… Very well, I’ll accept your condition,” he nods firmly. “In fact, I may already have an idea of who to ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, _now_ we're getting somewhere. Now, who does Sherlock ask to be his Watson?
> 
> 1\. Asmodeus  
> 2\. Leviathan  
> 3\. Mammon


	9. Detective Work.

“I had a hot date tonight, you know,” Asmo pouts. “Why’d you drag _me_ along for this, anyways?”

“Diavolo asked me to bring someone along so I wasn’t investigating alone,” Satan sighs, walking up and down the concrete. “This is where it happened, according to his information.”

“… This is where Logan was attacked, you mean,” his brother frowns. “But… It’s just an unloading area for trucks for the strip mall. There’s nothing here.”

“I know,” the Avatar of Wrath grumbles, sitting down on the curb. “I’m beginning to think that this might’ve been a fool’s errand.”

“Well, _you’re_ mister detective today, aren’t you?” Asmo argues. “Isn’t there like, _evidence_ you can do something with? Logan said she stabbed someone in the eye with a glass bottle, right?”

“She also managed to smash a car window, apparently,” he reveals. “But look at the ground, do you see any glass anywhere?”

Asmodeus looks over the pavement, and he can’t help but agree. “Somebody must have cleaned it up already,” he sighs. “And I guess that dewey taste in the air means that it’s rained since, so there isn’t even any blood we could use magic to trace.”

Satan launches to his feet and paces in manic frustration.

“Do you see what I mean?” he snarls unhappily. “And even if we had anything – literally _anything_ – what am I going to do with it, exactly? Take it back to my _lab?_ My _forensics team_ that I don’t have?? If I had the license plate number, how would I even _run_ it?! If I had a description of the men who attacked Logan, what would I even _do_ with it? Wander around town until I bump into someone that I _think_ might match it??”

He sits back down and runs his hands over his face. “We’re strangers in an alien world,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “And this isn’t some TV show detective drama – I don’t have the resources or knowledge needed to even know where to _start_.”

He’s failed before he’s even _begun_.

The Avatar of Lust folds his arms and scoffs at his older brother. “Satan, I _know_ you’re not a quitter,” he huffs. “So _what_ if this is a dead end? There are still other ways we can track them down, right?”

Satan pulls the box with the knife inside of it out of his jacket, holding it in his hands over his knees contemplatively.

“… Just because this has magic on it doesn’t mean I know what _kind_ of magic or who it ultimately belongs to,” he points out. “I’ve done a couple of spells but it’s pretty heavily warded. Hell, they could be scrying on us right now with this as a target and I wouldn’t even know the difference. Human magic is a bit more fluid than Demon magic, prone to a _lot_ of change over the last two thousand years, and has a wide variety of forms it takes.”

“ _Soo_ ,” Asmo grins giddily. “Then maybe all we need is an expert in human magic to help guide us.”

Satan straightens, looking up at Asmo with a skeptical look. “And who would that be?” he asks skeptically.

“Isn’t it obvious?” his younger brother swoons. “That’d _have_ to be my wingman, Solomon~!”

* * *

“… Mmn?”

“I almost didn’t want to wake you, you know,” someone snickers. “You looked so cute snuggled into Beel’s shoulder like that.”

You blink bleary-eyed at the youngest brother, standing in front of you with his hands on his knees. “Belphie…?”

“But you know, you should probably eat some real food today,” he says quietly, offering a hand to you. “It’s just about dinner time. Want to keep me company while I cook? And then I can put you to bed after, if you’re still tired. Or cozy up with a movie, it’s your choice.”

You smile at him. “That sounds nice, okay.”

Taking his hand, you rise to your feet and he hooks his arm around your waist when you wobble unsteadily on your bad ankle. He walks you into the nearby kitchen and sets you up on a tall stool next to the long worktable running down the center of it.

“Do you mind chopping this for me?” he says, placing a cutting board and some vegetables next to you with a large knife.

You blink at the food and then playfully shove his shoulder. “You just wanted to put me to work!” you accuse, laughing.

He grins at that, chuckling. “Maybe just a little. I have _soo_ much prep to do. Once things start cooking though, Beel will wake up and help me. You don’t actually _have_ to if you don’t want to, it can wait.”

Well, you’ve never been one to turn down an opportunity to help out. You pick up the knife and grip one of the vegetables.

… And then you set the knife back down.

“… I don’t think I can,” you frown, staring at it.

Belphie sees the torn look on your face and immediately comes to your side, taking it away out of sight. “It’s okay – I said you don’t have to. Don’t worry about it.”

“Is there something else I can do to help instead?” you offer.

“… You can tear this up with your hands?” he suggests, offering you a head of a lettuce-like vegetable. “And I’ll need to grate some cheese too.”

With that settled, you tear at the vegetable and toss the leaves into a large colander to be washed, while he stands across from you working through the other vegetables and meat. You sort of fall into a trance, watching him work the knife with practiced skill.

“How have you been?” Belphie asks, snapping you out of it. He stops his prep work to look you in the eyes. “I don’t think any of us has really asked, but you _have_ been gone about a week now. Anything exciting happen?”

“Well,” you think. “I went and got the mail a couple of times. I had a _lot_ of flyers piled up in there. I had to do a bunch of yard work right away too – my grass got tall and there must have been a bad storm at some point, because my front yard was covered with small branches that got knocked off my stupid pine tree. Other than that stuff, cleaning, and re-buying all my food, I really haven’t done all that much.”

“What about a job?”

You cringe a bit at that. “… I _was going_ to, but… I just needed to get re-acclimated to things first. Catch up on chores, go see my aunt and cousins, things like that.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to suggest you should’ve found one by now,” he backs down. “I just know it’s important to you to keep busy. Though, if I had _my_ way, you wouldn’t work another day in your life,” he winks.

“Yeah, I know,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him. “But I’d go stir-crazy with a life like that.”

He chuckles, turning away from you for a moment to move the cubed meat into a hot frying pan, tossing it in the oil and moving it around with a spatula. You blink at that. You didn’t even notice he’d finished cutting it? All of the vegetables are chopped in a large bowl on the side, as well, next to a very large stock pot that’s on a slow boil.

“Did you grate the cheese?” he asks.

You look down at the leafy vegetable in your hands. “Oh, no, I didn’t get to it,” you frown.

“No problem. Shove it my way and I’ll get through it.”

“What are you making, actually?” you ask.

“It’s Devildom ingredients with a human-world twist,” he smirks. “Oven-baked bird, grilled steaks, hearty soup, salad, ‘garlic’ bread, and fresh pasta with a red sauce. All human-safe, of course. Once it’s prepped it all just cooks with minimal work. Just have to make sure I make enough for eight people, one of whom is Beel,” he chuckles, tossing the meat in the frying pan.

“You’re not bad in the kitchen you know,” you grin. “It already smells really good in here.”

“Yeah? Have my cooking skills won you over, Logan?” he winks.

“We’ll see how it all tastes,” you tease.

His face gets serious, accepting the unspoken challenge. “Right. Better get back to it, then-“

“Can I help?”

You both turn and see the Avatar of Gluttony leaning against the archway into the massive kitchen.

“Of course, Beel,” Belphie beams. “Just try not to eat the ingredients this time, ‘kay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needed some soft at the end there. Also, I don't have a lot else planned for this fic (but I do have an ending now, yay!) so it might only be a handful more chapters to go.


	10. Destiny.

After his conversation with Diavolo and seeing that you were with Beel in the common room safe and sound, Lucifer had retreated to his study to get some work done. Since he was a bit pre-occupied with your health last night the reports he’s been going over are now a day late to submit, though he knows that Diavolo will be flexible with the timeline considering the circumstances. They’re non-urgent updates from the other eight Hells, basically status quo readings to be put into a summary for the Prince to take to his father.

He’s having an exceptionally difficult time staying focused however, as one thought keeps plaguing his mind; Was he inappropriate with you last night? Did he make you uncomfortable?

… He just wanted you nearby, almost _desperately_ – when he thinks about the state you were in when he saw you at the castle yesterday…

Okay, he had made some assumptions there. Seeing you in a guest robe covered in injuries may have led to some leaps in judgement. The Demon Prince, like _any_ respectable demon, is known for using torture to punish dissenting demons. All those scratches and marks on your skin had… _Ignited_ something in him. In that moment he was willing to fight and even _kill_ the future King of the Devildom for the harm he caused you.

… Yes, he’s glad that he was wrong in that assumption. But, he’s still… _Fixated_ , on your physical state and the injuries you sustained. How dare _anyone_ put marks on you like that. He’s glad that Diavolo had the insight to send Satan and Asmodeus to the human world to find your attackers, because he’s not sure that he could exercise the restraint needed not to tear them limb from limb.

… And he’s also fairly proud of you, for giving as good as you got, if not _better_ if your claim about the man’s eye is true. But he _never_ wants you in a situation like that ever again, where you feel you have to ‘fight for your _life_ ’.

A knock against the side of a bookshelf a short distance away breaks him of his reverie. He looks up to see you leaning against it, still just as radiant as when you left Asmo’s care this morning.

“Dinner’s just about ready,” you tell him. “And you look like you could use a break.”

“Logan,” Lucifer frowns. “How did you get over here? Don’t you have a sprained ankle?”

“Patience,” you respond, rebalancing yourself on one foot. “And painkillers.”

He sets his pen down and stands from his desk. “You shouldn’t be walking on it unaided,” he scolds you gently.

“Well then, you’ll just have to escort me back to the diningroom then, right?” you tease him.

… You can be so utterly _charming_ , sometimes.

He chuckles as he takes the short staircase up to you, quickly looping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side as you lean against his shoulder. “Very well,” he smirks. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” you smile up at him. “Oh, and can you bring Mammon down from the chandelier already? He’s been up there _all day_.”

* * *

“Will you be taking your dinner in your office tonight, my Lord?”

Diavolo looks up from his desk at Barbatos, his loyal butler since long before he came to power. “I’m having trouble making a decision on something,” he muses absently.

“Is there some way that I can assist you?” he asks.

“Would it be possible for you to take a look at Logan’s potential futures?” the Prince asks hesitantly. “Or, would that be too much to ask?”

Barbatos’ brows shift upward in mild surprise. “And what are you looking for, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Logan’s destiny.”

“… _I see_ ,” Barbatos hums, resting a gloved hand against his chin thoughtfully. “You are trying to gauge whether your level of involvement in the incident Logan endured is affecting the path that she is supposed to walk.”

“You know me far too well,” Diavolo chuckles.

One of the three rules he must follow in order to keep the alliance with the Celestial Realm – he cannot interfere with mortal destiny – is at stake. If he keeps you in the Devildom, then you cannot live a normal life, or pursue whatever mortal destiny is ahead of you.

“If I may,” the humble butler begins. “I can certainly show you the different paths that Logan _can_ walk based on your proposed decisions, however, I cannot tell you which path she is _supposed_ to walk. That is unfortunately beyond my ability to determine.”

“Well,” Diavolo sighs. “It was worth a shot.”

“I know you must have _someone_ you can ask about destiny, though,” Barbatos cleverly reminds him.

“I do,” he reveals. “I just know I won’t get a straight answer from them.”

“Perhaps, but they might still provide guidance of some sort,” the butler suggests. “As you said, it is ‘worth a shot’.”

Diavolo grins at that. “Thank you, Barbatos.”

“Of course, my Lord,” he bows. “After dinner, I will look into possible futures and compile our list of options.”

“Very well, thank you again.”

With a final nod, the butler leaves the room. Diavolo sighs, opening up his D.D.D. to dial his contact.


	11. Weapons.

“ _Solomon~!_ ”

Asmodeus practically leaps into the man’s arms as they arrive at the human sorcerer’s palace. The silver-haired human chuckles warmly, accepting Asmo’s embrace while Satan looks on.

“This is a surprise Asmo,” he hums as the demon’s long slender fingers start affectionately stroking through his hair. “Weren’t we supposed to be meeting a bit later?”

“Sorry honey, something came up,” the Avatar of Lust pouts in apology, giving the man a kiss low on his jaw. “I’ll make it up to you later, you _know_ I will~”

Satan clears his throat.

“… What exactly _is_ your relationship, if you don’t mind my asking?” he inquires. “I thought he was your ‘wingman’.”

Asmo brings his arm around the human’s shoulders as Solomon pulls him into his side by his waist. “He is that,” his brother explains. “But sometimes we have some fun together, just the two of us,” he grins.

“We’re in an open relationship,” Solomon clarifies.

“Spare me the details,” Satan scoffs. “We need some advice on human magic.”

The sorcerer blinks, removing his arm from Asmo’s waist to bring his hand up to his chin contemplatively. “Is this about what happened to Logan?” he asks. “I thought you might.”

“Wait – how do _you_ know about that, Solomon?” Asmo questions.

“Everyone in the magic community has been talking about it,” he reveals. “I don’t know how word got out – I _certainly_ didn’t say anything myself, in case you’re wondering – but it seems like Logan’s attracted a lot of interest for… Um…”

“She/her today,” Asmo fills him in.

“Thank you. For her _pacts_ ,” Solomon finishes. “All I know is that when I returned I had witches and sorcerers lined up at my door, asking me how I managed to secure pacts over the seven Avatars. A brief case of mistaken identity I saw no immediate need to correct, but someone found out anyway,” he shrugs.

Satan and Asmo look at each other for a long moment, digesting the sorcerer’s words. “Was there anyone that took a _particular_ interest in Logan once the information about her pacts got out?” Satan asks.

“Tons of people,” Solomon frowns. “But, it seems you’ve brought something that could help me narrow it down? I can sense it on you.”

Asmo looks to his brother, who reluctantly withdraws the box from his jacket, containing the knife. “Lord Diavolo recovered it from the scene,” he explains. “He was going to cleanse it, but sought to preserve the evidence for our investigation instead. I’ve already done what I can with it without directly affecting the enchantments.”

Solomon holds his hands out for the box, but Satan hesitates in handing it over, glaring at the human with a fury that only the Avatar of Wrath can muster.

“You do _not_ get to keep it,” he asserts grimly. “And any spells you cast on it must be in our presence only.”

He withdraws his hands, holding them up as if getting sworn in to court. “I agree, of course. I know how much this could still cause harm to Logan.”

Asmodeus looks between the two of them, then looks to his brother and nods. Satan sighs, opening the box and holding it out.

Solomon takes in a sharp breath when he sees the knife.

“… This is a _bloodletting_ knife,” he reveals. “I recognize the make of it. This is used in some fairly dark magic.”

“Well, we knew _that_ already~!” Asmo complains.

“The enchantments on it are _very_ powerful,” he continues, then turns on his heel and grabs a cloth from a nearby table. He returns, wrapping it around the handle of the knife before picking it up. Satan watches his every movement carefully, and when their eyes meet Solomon chuckles mildly to himself. “To protect myself from any curses on it,” he says, gesturing to the fabric. “I didn’t get to _my_ age by being careless.”

“And what age is that?”

“Oh _Satan_ , you _never_ ask a sorcerer his age! How impolite!” Asmo berates him.

He beckons the demons to follow him down the palace hallways to a small room with a black marble altar, a large brazier of fire already burning away just behind it. Carefully, he sets the knife down on the altar, discarding the cloth into the flames and then gathering some components from a chest of drawers nearby. Satan watches the human intensely as he performs his magic, placing dried herbs and crystals in formation around the sullied weapon.

Solomon gestures into the air, reciting some spell in an ancient human tongue as red symbols appear in the air over the knife. Then he takes the sprig of herbs and casts them violently into the fire, staring into the flames intently. He hums, folding his arms as he examines the twisting shapes.

“… _Well?_ ” Satan asks, feeling impatient.

“… It’s unclear who the knife belongs to,” Solomon sighs. “Without altering the magic already on it and breaking the wards I can’t get a clear answer right now.”

“Oh, well _that’s_ just-“

“However,” the sorcerer smirks. “I _may_ be able to determine who made it. That could be a start.”

“Then we can go ask them who they made it for!” Asmo cheers. “What did I tell you, Satan? We’re not done yet! We have a _lead~!_ ”

Satan sighs heavily. “I suppose you’re right. Very well then, who is the craftsman?”

“… While you seek them out, I _would_ like to study the knife a bit more-“

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Satan refuses, glaring daggers at him.

“If I have some time to research the enchantments on it, I might be able to find more leads,” the human reasons. “I have connections with the magic community, and I might be able to give you a list of names for witches who use magic similar to this.”

“Satan, I’m not sure we ought to turn him down,” Asmo frowns. “I can keep him company to make sure he doesn’t do anything funny with it, okay? I _promise_ I won’t be _too_ distracting~.”

“And how am I supposed to get the knife maker to talk to me without it?” he charges.

Solomon takes out his D.D.D. that he was allowed home with him, quickly taking a picture of it and sending it in a new message. Satan’s D.D.D. pings obediently in response. “That should do it,” he nods.

Asmo tsks. “Oh _honey_ , the lighting in here is _terrible!_ Here, why don’t we take it somewhere else with some natural light and try that photo again?”

* * *

“I can’t believe ya left me up there all day!” Mammon bitterly complains at the dinner table. “That’s not healthy, ya know!”

“Ugh, now we have to listen to him whine at the table, too?” Belphie moans. “It was bad enough that he was yelling in the stairwell all afternoon.”

“Where are Satan and Asmo?” you ask, noticing their absence.

“They’ve gone to the human world on an errand,” Lucifer explains. “I’m not sure when they’ll be back.”

“Oh…” you say absently, picking up your water glass for drink.

Then you freeze.

You set the glass back down on the table, folding your arms and staring at it.

“… Logan?” Lucifer asks. “Is something wrong?”

“… The feeling of glass in my hand,” you mutter out. “… Is there something else I can use for a glass?”

“You’re being weird right now,” Levi observes.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling small.

“No, it’s alright,” Lucifer forgives. “Mammon, go into the kitchen and find something else for Logan to use for water. Something not made of glass.”

“ _Me?_ Why do _I_ have to do it?” the Avatar of Greed complains.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Lucifer adds darkly.

“Fine, fine! I’m goin’ already!” he scoffs.

“… Is it because of the fight?” Beel asks softly.

“… I’m sorry I’m so off today,” you sigh, struggling against a sob. “I don’t _want_ to be.”

“No, it’s okay Logan,” Belphie reassures you. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“… I have a Ruri-chan cup in my room you can use,” Levi offers reluctantly, blushing furiously. “It’s from the human world so it’s made of plastic. BUT, you _can’t_ break it or anything! It’s a limited run promotional item!”

“… That _could_ work, if you’re really okay with me using it?” you smile weakly. “I’ll do my best to take care of it.”

“Levi, can you go get it then?” Lucifer asks.

“Yes!” Levi salutes, launching from his chair to his room.

“I don’t know why Mammon isn’t back yet,” the first born grumbles.

“Maybe he got lost,” Belphie rolls his eyes. “Or, he’s collecting all of our silverware to pawn off again.”

“He wouldn’t really _do_ that though, would he?” you ask.

Lucifer slides his chair out, sighing. “I’ll go check on him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one for today, maybe. Coming up on the end now :) Also I keep writing Mammon out of it, whoops.


	12. Open Season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warning: Mentions of blood/bloodletting.**

“Prince Diavolo, you well know that I can’t tell you anything.”

Diavolo sighs. He knew this would be a dead end.

“I don’t need to know Logan’s full destiny,” he clarifies. “And frankly, the purpose of my call is so that I may avoid interfering with it. So, can’t you at least tell me what I _should_ be doing to ensure that I don’t change what her future is meant to be?”

The speaker on the other end sighs. “Haven’t you already asked Barbatos to show you her future?”

“Yes, but- he can only show me _possible_ outcomes, not what is _supposed_ to happen,” he argues.

They fall silent, and Diavolo takes a steadying breath.

“Listen – tenuous though it might be, we have an alliance,” he asserts. “And one of the conditions of it is for us demons to not interfere with mortal destiny. I am just trying to honour that. However, I worry that I might have already been too involved in recent events and changed Logan’s trajectory too much.”

“… What do you think is best?” they ask. “What do your instincts tell you to do?”

Diavolo straightens at his desk. “… Logan belongs in the human world, _not_ the Devildom,” he declares firmly. “However… I don’t know that the human world is _safe_ for her anymore, and I would offer her a place here, if that isn’t intruding on her mortal destiny.”

“So you want to keep Logan there, while also feeling that the right thing to do would be to send her back?” they ask, clarifying the Prince’s intentions.

“That’s right. But,” he adds. “Humans don’t belong in the Devildom. Pacts or not, it isn’t safe here for mortals.”

“… As I’ve said,” the speaker reminds him. “I cannot tell you her destiny. It is forbidden.”

“I know that-“

“ _But_ ,” they interrupt. “I can tell you _one_ thing, and one thing _only_.”

Diavolo blinks, surprised. “And that is?”

“You are on the right track.”

The demon frowns. “Well, _that’s_ helpful,” he chides sarcastically.

They laugh. “I’m afraid that is all I have to give. Is there anything else for today, Lord Diavolo?”

“I suppose not,” he sighs. “Thank you, Auriel.”

“It is always a pleasure,” the angel hums, signing off.

The call ends, and Diavolo looks at his D.D.D. with a forlorn expression.

He still has a few decisions to make.

* * *

“Are you the blacksmith?”

“Who’s askin’?”

“Satan.”

The woman turns away from the arcane worktop, arching an eyebrow at her unassuming blonde visitor. “The Lord of Wrath himself? To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asks haughtily, wiping her hands on a dirty apron.

He opens his D.D.D. and shows the picture of the knife – the re-take Asmo insisted on, with the fine details of the handle clearly visible. “I need to know who you made this knife for,” he says.

She turns and squints at it, then fetches a pair of glasses and rests them on her face. “Don’t recognize it,” she dismisses, tearing the lenses off and chucking them back onto a cluttered desk.

“Really? You don’t want to take credit for the fine craftsmanship?” he probes smoothly.

She hacks a laugh at that. “Butter me up all ya like, I don’t rat out payin’ customers.”

Satan sees _red_. He’s come so far to find out who is responsible for the attack on Logan, he’s officially tapped out of patience and _not_ about to entertain some stubborn _witch_ who wants to give him the runaround.

Before he can have another rational thought, he’s got her throat in one hand and is holding her over the embers of her forge, just shy of her hair catching fire in the oppressive heat.

“My friend’s _blood_ is on that knife,” he snarls dangerously, Wrath boiling out from him. “So unless you want to try and fill the rest of your orders without _fingers,_ I _suggest_ you tell me the name of your _client!!_ ”

His demon form is just _itching_ to come out and play as the human gurgles helplessly in his grasp.

“Whoa, _Satan~!_ ”

“Looks like we got here just in time.”

He turns, withdrawing the smith from her forge and tossing her to the floor as she catches her breath again. Asmodeus and Solomon are just stepping into the shop behind him.

“What did you figure out?” he demands.

“I know the witch who commissioned the knife.”

“Great. Where is she?”

He’s still in a dismembering mood.

“Not so fast,” Solomon stalls him. “There’s one other problem I think should be addressed.”

“The only problem I _have_ right now is that you still haven’t told me the witch’s _name_ ,” he rasps.

“Satan,” Asmo pleads. “It’s worth hearing him out.”

Solomon carefully takes the box with the knife in it, and hands it back to Satan as promised. “The witch’s name is Bellisaie,” he responds. “She’s a terribly powerful witch and specializes in controlling demons through pacts. But not just that,” he adds. “She steals pacts from others using ancient blood magic.”

Satan gawks at the information. “How does she manage that?” he demands.

“It’s something to do with using the blood to connect to the soul,” Asmo hums unhappily. “Solomon explained it better at the palace, but basically she does it by bleeding her target in a ritual, and then grafts the pacts onto her own soul.”

“Bellisaie is _significantly_ dangerous not just to Logan, but to you and all of your brothers,” Solomon nods, frowning. “ _Anyone_ who has a pact with Logan is at risk of being conscripted into her service, should she get a hold of her.”

“Logan was targeted because this Bellisaie wants to command _us_ ,” Satan realizes, a shadow cast over his expression. “If she had been taken yesterday…”

“It gets worse than that,” Solomon adds. “Bellisaie is just one of many witches after Logan’s pacts. Even if you sought her out and did whatever you plan to to _stop_ her, there would just be countless more attempts on Logan’s life by the rest.”

“… _How_ many?”

“Dozens. Possibly _hundreds_ of them,” the sorcerer clarifies. “As soon as word got out that a magicless human managed to gain pacts over the seven demon lords…”

“… We should report back to the Devildom, tell everyone what we found,” Asmo suggests. “Sorry Solomon, but I think our date is cancelled for tonight,” he frowns.

“It’s not a problem, Asmo.”

“... Satan?”

Satan collects himself. “Let’s head back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Googled the angel of destiny and got all sorts of different names (Urial/Oriel/Auriel) and different pronouns, so I just took the name I liked best and made them non-binary. Let me know if I slipped a wrong pronoun in there though - I've looked at this for too long already.


	13. Our Fault.

“I want to hang out in my old room with Levi and Mammon.”

Lucifer frowns at your refusal.

“Look – Levi needs help with cutting barcodes from all the Ruri-themed food he bought for the promotion,” you argue. “I figure it’ll help clear boxes out of the room and-“

“It’s alright, Logan,” he chuckles. “So long as I know where you are and that you’re safe.”

You blink, stunned. He’s just going to _let_ you?

“Make sure you ice your ankle and keep it elevated,” he adds. “If you need anything from me or if you tire of my brothers’ company, feel free to message me on your D.D.D. – I’ll be in my study.”

You’re completely _agog_. Lucifer _never_ takes no for an answer. What changed?

… Did Diavolo talk to him? _Geez_ , you wonder how serious it must have been.

But you really appreciate him letting you have some time alone with your needy neglected boys. You stumble into him and he moves to catch you, but you bring your arms up around his torso in a tight hug.

“… Logan?”

“Thank you.” You smile up at him. “For looking after me, and letting me have my way for once.”

You can’t be completely sure, but there might be a _little_ colour on his porcelain cheeks.

He clears his throat, glancing away as he gently grips you by your shoulders. “… Let’s get you over to your room,” he says.

* * *

“Welcome back Satan, Asmodeus,” Diavolo greets them at his castle later that night. “How did your investigation go? Did you find out the name of the witch who did this?”

“We found the witch who ordered the attack on Logan,” Asmodeus frowns. “But… It turns out that it’s a _bit_ more complicated than that.”

“It’s all our fault.”

Diavolo’s surprised at Satan, who holds out the box with the dagger, looking down at it sullenly. “Care to explain?” the Prince asks.

Asmo looks between the two of them before deciding to speak up. “… The witch wanted Logan’s pacts – we reached out to Solomon and found out that there’s been a _lot_ of buzz in the human magic community about it! About how Logan got pacts over all of us, while having no magic of her own to defend herself with.”

“Because of that,” Satan clears his throat, finally meeting Diavolo’s eyes with a hard expression. “Logan will never be safe in the human world again. We painted that giant target on her back ourselves,” he sighs uneasily.

The Prince blinks, accepting the box and handing it off to Barbatos, waiting just behind him to take it away to be finally cleansed and destroyed. He then folds his arms as he takes on a stern expression, considering the information the two brothers have gleaned.

“And I assume it’s too late to rescind those pacts – if they already know about them they won’t assume that you’ve been released from her service randomly,” he ponders aloud. “Their information is still that Logan has pacts over the seven Avatars.”

“I wouldn’t want her to anyway,” Satan scoffs angrily. “Not after what happened. That’s the whole reason for our pacts.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Asmo pouts. “I don’t make pacts _frivolously_ , you know~, my pact with Logan is very special to me.”

“That’s alright – I wouldn’t force the issue anyways,” Diavolo assures the two brothers. “All right, why don’t you both get home and get some rest? I have a lot to think about tonight on how we can all best protect Logan going forward.”

Satan nods curtly and turns to leave, while Asmo takes a couple steps forward to grip Diavolo’s hand in his as he turns away.

“… Asmodeus?”

“You really _are_ going to keep Logan safe, aren’t you?” he asks seriously. “No tricks, no games, no sending her off on dangerous errands through _timelines_ or anything??”

Diavolo softens at his concern. “I give you my word – unfortunately that’s all I have to offer right now,” he offers. “But I’ve been spending most of today exploring our options.”

Barbatos returns to stand at His Majesty’s side, and Asmo lets him go as he scoffs. “Well, you’d _better_ keep your word, then,” he sneers, before skipping off to join his brother Satan in leaving the castle grounds.

“… My Lord,” Barbatos says softly. “I have the results of your earlier request ready for you, if you would like to go over them. However,” he adds. “It is very late at night and I believe you have an important meeting scheduled in the morning.”

Diavolo rubs at his tired eyes before turning to his butler and nodding. “I’ll rest easier once I’ve seen the results of your work.”

* * *

Beel and Belphie joined the three of you after a while of cutting barcodes from Ruri snacks, Beel to consume the snacks in his bottomless pit of a stomach and Belphie seemingly to just bother Mammon by throwing his pillow on your lap and sleeping on it. You’ve been idly playing with his hair as you organize the postcards.

“… How come you fought?” Beel asks innocently in between mouthfuls of Ruri candy.

“ _Beel!_ You can’t just _ask_ somethin’ like that!” Mammon scolds him defensively. “Not after what Logan’s been through!”

“… I’ve been kind of wondering the same thing,” Levi moans. “It would have been soooo much safer to just call one of us instead, right??”

“Do we have to talk about this right _now?_ ” you sigh. “I’d rather just forget about the whole thing and spend what time I have with you guys.”

“Do you have any combat training?” Beel prods, still curious. His stomach gurgles anxiously over his own question.

“I’ve done some martial arts before, for self-defense,” you nod. “… Not enough to earn any belts or anything, something always came up and I had to stop for whatever reason…”

“I can teach you?” the famished brother offers, smiling gently.

“Beel would be really gentle with you, you know,” Belphie hums in agreement, clearly not as asleep as he’s pretending to be.

“If you’ve done self-defense stuff before, why’d you hurt that guy with a bottle?” Mammon asks absently.

“I thought you were the one trying to get us to shut up about it?” Belphie scolds.

“I needed a weapon, I guess,” you shrug. “And it was already in my hand. Can we not talk about this though?”

“But why was _that_ what ya did?? I don’t mind ya fightin’ dirty, it’s actually kinda hot…” he trails off, mumbling. “But if you’ve had combat training, why resort to _that?_ ”

“Because I’ve lost a fight before.”

Belphie’s eyes snap open, sitting up and turning towards you. “What happened?” he asks seriously.

“Well… It was more like, I _should_ have fought back, and I didn’t… And I regret it,” you struggle out. “So, I always said to myself, if I ever found myself in a position like that again, that I’d just give it all I’ve got. It doesn’t _matter_ what I’d have to do, it doesn’t matter if I’d have to fight dirty, or seriously injure someone. I’m just… _Not_ going to lose again. I couldn’t stand it.”

Beel’s slack-jawed at your declaration, mouth falling open and a bit of candy falling from it. “Logan…”

“… _Damn_ ,” Mammon curses. “You’re hard as nails, Logan.”

Belphie pulls you into his chest in a hug once he realizes how upset you are. You numbly wrap your arms around him as you fight back tears. Mammon briefly scowls at his brother for comforting you instead of him, before just patting you on the back gently to try and help soothe you.

“Alright, time for a topic change,” the youngest brother asserts. “Levi, there’s some new anime you’ve got to show Logan, I’m sure. Why don’t you go and get it and put it on the TV?”

“Oh yeah!!” Levi cheers, leaping to his feet. “You haven’t even seen the Ruri-Ruri Sing-Along Songtacular Special~! I have the limited edition Blu-Ray!” he rambles off, running out of the room.

“Ah, great,” Mammon sighs, rolling his eyes. “He’s had all the songs memorized since the day he got it. Get ready for your ears to bleed!”

Lucifer appears in the doorway, folding his arms and surveying the scene before him.

“… You should all be in bed at this hour,” he sighs.

“Aw come _on_ , Lucifer! But Logan’s back,” Mammon pleads.

“Yeah, and we’re on break anyways,” Belphie protests, letting you go from the hug.

“I want to stay with Logan a bit longer,” Beel adds, nodding. “And there’s still so much food to eat.”

“Logan needs her rest too,” he gently scolds them. “And you still have the rest of break to work through those labels for Levi’s contest entries.”

“… I _am_ feeling kind of tired,” you admit, wiping at your eyes.

“… Okay Logan, let’s get you to bed then,” Mammon nods, looping your arm over his shoulder.

Belphie snaps at him. “Oh _no_ you don’t-“

“ **Enough** ,” Lucifer bellows. “Let’s not do this _every_ night. Logan, where would you like to sleep tonight? I see that your bed is no longer covered in boxes, so you have this room as an option.”

… He’s giving you a choice again?

“… I want to sleep in Beel and Belphie’s room,” you answer. “I think that sleeping alone might freak me out, actually.”

Belphie grins like he just won the lottery, tucking his pillow under his arm and then bringing your other arm onto his shoulders, while Mammon scowls at the pair of you, flashing you a look of betrayal. Lucifer just sighs.

“In _Beel’s_ bed,” you clarify, smirking at the troublemaker.

“Huh?” Beel blinks from the side of the room, surprised to be included. “… Yeah, alright,” he grins happily.

“That’s still fine by me,” Belphie shrugs casually. “I can still help you walk there, though. Lean on me, Logan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to find a balance between high- and low-stakes scenes, but this one all felt kinda heavy so next chapter is just going to be basically all playful Belphie (also because I'm weak for him and the scene idea I had went much longer than I had planned). I'll have a resolution to all this mess fairly soon :)
> 
> Also I totally keep snubbing some of the brothers for some reason. Sorry Levi :( No singalong movie night thing for you.


	14. Middle Spoon.

You stole a t-shirt and a pair of comfy pajama pants from Belphie’s closet, figuring that the dress Asmo bought that you’ve spent all day in might not be as comfortable to sleep in. His frame isn’t much bigger than yours, but it’s still all a bit loose fit.

“You can use our bathroom to change,” Beel offers.

“Or you can just change right here,” Belphie smirks, clearly not intending to go anywhere.

“Belphie…” his brother sighs.

“What? _Asmo_ sees her in her underwear all the time,” he complains. “Wh- Ugh, _BEEL!_ ”

Beel wordlessly grabs his smaller twin and throws him over his shoulder, leaving the room. Belphie hisses at his removal, comically reaching for you. You can’t help but laugh at the display.

You call out once you’re re-dressed, and the brothers come back in to help you with your nightly routine – washing your face, brushing your teeth, etcetera – and then you’re tucked into Beel’s bed, where he lays on his side facing you, holding your hand.

“… Anything I can do to help you sleep?” Beel asks innocently.

“This is fine,” you smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Okay. Good night, Logan.”

“Night Beel.”

“Good night, I guess,” Belphegor huffs from across the room.

You chuckle. “We didn’t forget you Belphie. Good night to you too.”

It doesn’t take very long before you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep…

…

…

Hands grab at you, and you wake up with a gasp. Struggling, you lash out.

“ _Ow!_ Logan, it’s _me!_ ”

You snap awake and sit up while he turns to click on the bedside lamp.

“… _Belphie?!_ ”

You catch your breath as he rubs at his face. He’s shifted into his demon form and his tail flicks irritably behind him.

“What is it with you and _eyes?!_ ” he moans unhappily, holding his eye. “Seven Hells, you hit a _lot_ harder than I expected.”

“I’m sorry!” you apologize frantically, still catching your breath.

“No, it’s okay – maybe I should’ve tried waking you up a little before trying to spoon you,” he sighs.

You start to tune back in to your surroundings. “Where’s Beel?” you ask.

“Kitchen. Midnight snack time.”

“And, what do you think you’re doing climbing into bed with me?”

“… Okay, I _was_ a little jealous that you said you wanted to sleep with Beel and not me,” he frowns. “But I just wanted my cuddle buddy back. And anyways, how come you didn’t want to sleep in _my_ bed?”

“Because trouble’s your middle name,” you smirk.

“Demons don’t _have_ last names, let alone middle names. That doesn’t even make sense,” he snickers.

You frown. “I wasn’t trying to reject you or anything-“

“Do I still scare you?”

As he says it, he remembers himself and puts his demon form away.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Of _course_ not.”

“Then…?”

“ _Well_ ,” you glance away, flustering a little bit. “Out of anybody I’d expect to get ‘ _handsy’_ with me…”

“Hey, only if you wanted to,” he insists. “I’m not _gross_.”

You laugh at that. “Well, I knew _that_. I just… Might not tell you to _stop_.”

He sucks in a tiny gasp at that, as a teasing smile stretches across his face. He shuffles onto the bed closer to you. “Logan, that is _music_ to my _ears_. We’ve got maybe another twenty minutes before Beel gets back?” he offers, holding out his hands for you. “Let’s get you over to my bed first, alright?”

“Whoa there, cowboy,” you stall him, pressing a hand against his chest.

“What?”

“… How do you think your brothers would react if we fooled around?” you ask him seriously.

He scoffs. “I don’t care what the others would think.”

“Well, I can’t help that I do,” you sigh. “I don’t want to break their hearts, and everyone’s so jealous over me all the time. I wouldn’t want to create trouble for you, either.”

“You care too much,” he scolds you.

“And you don’t care _enough_ sometimes.”

“Sounds like we’re a perfect match, then,” he says, taking your hand in his and pressing into you. “Now, come on – we’re wasting valuable fooling-around time.”

“What if they locked you in the attic again?”

That makes him stop. “… Okay, I guess I see your point,” he sighs heavily.

“I hate to bring it up, and it _is_ pretty worst-case scenario, but,” you fret. “I just don’t want you to be punished for getting involved with me.”

“So, what, we can’t ever have a real relationship then?” he charges.

You lie back. “That’s not it – I just feel _stuck_. I don’t really know _what_ to do.”

He stretches out and lies down next to you on his side.

“… You know, I’ve told you that I love you, but you never really said it back,” he pouts.

You roll towards him and kiss the end of his nose. “I love you too, Belphie. Really, was there ever any doubt?”

His whole face lights up. “Not anymore. You missed, though,” he beams, taking your chin in his hand, his mouth closing in on yours.

“I just… I’m in love with like _five_ of your brothers, too,” you pout, biting your lip.

He withdraws, dropping his head on the pillow with a sigh.

“And,” you add. “It’s pretty obvious that _none_ of you can share.”

He perks up. “I can share with Beel?” he offers.

“Belphie-!” you laugh.

“Who’s the odd man out, though?” he asks, suddenly curious. “I bet it’s Mammon.”

“Nope, he’s adorable.”

“Ugh, never say anything so gross ever again,” he huffs. “Then who?”

“Lucifer.”

He nods. “Makes perfect sense. If you look up the phrase ‘emotionally constipated’ on Devilpedia all it has for the definition is a picture of him.”

You swat at him. “ _Belphie!_ ” you gape, bursting into fits of giggles.

“… What’s the plan, anyways?” he asks out of the blue.

For tomorrow? “I don’t know – same as yesterday?” you shrug.

“No, I mean – are you here to stay this time?” he asks, looking at you seriously. “Or… Is Diavolo planning to send you back?”

“In a few days he wants to discuss it, I think,” you tell him. “I don’t think he really _has_ a plan yet, but he insists that it’s not safe for humans here.”

“Bullcrap. I’ll keep you safe,” he insists angrily. “If he tries to send you back again, I’ll kill him.”

“Belphie, I’ve only been here a couple of days,” you say, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “Why don’t we just enjoy the extra time we have?”

“I don’t want to let you go back there. Not if you’re just going to get attacked like that.”

You know how much this must hurt Belphie. He’s worked so hard to prove that you can trust him after what he did, how deeply he regrets it, and he made a point of wanting to be your protector with his pact. It must worry him to know that people from your own world could be so casually violent with you when he’s not around.

“… I know I’m safe right now,” you reassure him, brushing some of his hair from his face.

You lean over him, kissing him on the lips, and he responds in kind, tangling a hand in your hair. It’s a soft, sweet kiss between you, though you let it linger for a few long moments.

“… Are you tired?” you ask afterwards.

“Not after _that_ ,” he grins.

“ _Pfft_. Roll over, you.”

He arches a brow at that, but does as he’s told, getting settled in on Beel’s pillows. You snuggle into his back, bringing a hand up to weave through his hair and massage his scalp.

“… Okay, this works,” he hums pleasantly.

Minutes pass and you both start to drift off again. Beel enters the room a bit later, noticing the two of you curled up in his bed and frowns. But nonetheless, he clicks off the lamp and pulls the covers up over both of you.

“… Beel?” you ask tiredly, rolling towards him.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks, concerned.

“Naw.” You reach out for him. “Get over here big guy, I want to be middle spoon.”

He grins at that, peeling the covers back so he can climb in behind you, settling in with a hand at your waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playful Belphie is best Belphie <3 He's my favourite to write.


	15. Possibilities.

“What if we never invited Logan to RAD in the first place? What if I went back and asked Lucifer to choose a different applicant?”

“I’m afraid the result is the same, my Lord,” Barbatos muses.

Diavolo runs a hand through his hair, upset by the news. “This is all _my_ fault. If I had never dreamed up the exchange program…”

“No, my Lord,” the butler softly insists. “Pardon my saying, but your goal of uniting the realms has succeeded, has it not?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“And if I may continue to be so bold,” he continues, bowing slightly. “I did look at a few timelines without the exchange program or where it had been cancelled entirely, and the results weren’t much better then either.”

“What choice do I have, Barbatos?” the Prince asks irritably. “It seems that no matter what we do, there’s a war between the three worlds, and…”

“… And Logan dies,” he nods.

A heavy silence falls over the two men.

“… If I may ask a question?”

“Of course, Barbatos.”

“Why is Logan’s fate so important to you, my Lord?” he asks, plainly curious of his master’s motivations. “I know that you want to ensure her safe return to the human world, but that is looking all but impossible at this rate. However, it _is_ in a human’s nature to die, my Lord, with the dangers of their world and significantly shorter lifespans…”

“Logan is important to Lucifer and his brothers,” he frowns. “And I swore to them that I would do whatever it took to keep her safe.”

“Then, may I suggest allowing her to stay in the Devildom?”

Diavolo starts, surprised. “How would we do that?”

Barbatos flashes him a small, calculated smile. “I have a few more timelines to show you, if the hour is not too late for my Lord.”

“Show me. Please.”

* * *

“What happened to your face, Belphie?” Asmo asks at breakfast the following morning.

He rubs at his cheek, surprised to find it’s a little puffy. “Ahaha, Logan got a bit rough with me last night,” he chuckles.

“Well don’t say it like _that_ -“ you protest.

“It’s ‘cause ya couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, _isn’t_ it?!” Mammon accuses, slamming the table.

“I _knew_ it,” Levi pouts. “How _could_ you, Belphie!?”

“It wasn’t _like_ that!” you say, trying to stop the inevitable fight between brothers from breaking out. Maybe you should’ve just gone with Lucifer again – they fought a lot _less_ about that.

… You’re still on the fence about him, though. Emotionally constipated indeed. He’s watching the drama with interest, waiting to see whether he should step in or if someone ought to be punished for their illicit actions.

“I’m kind of surprised you left a mark at all,” Beel notices. “How hard did you hit him?”

“I don’t really know, I was kind of flailing a bit-“

“You WERE being inappropriate with Logan~!” Asmo accuses. “Belphie, you _dog!_ ”

“Okay, that’s IT!” Mammon stands, glaring at his youngest brother.

“Mammon, _stop!_ ” you yell, standing from your chair as well. 

… You seem to have the table’s attention. A pointed look at Mammon makes him sink back into his seat, slouched with his arms folded angrily.

“… He climbed into bed with me last night,” you sigh. Several brothers seem to stir at that. “But! It was just for a cuddle, just like he said. I was just asleep when he tried to pull me into his arms, and I unconsciously reacted to being grabbed. That’s _it_.”

“And where was Beel?” Asmo asks.

“I was in the kitchen,” he frowns. “Sorry, Logan.”

“I know about your middle of the night snacking, it’s okay,” you forgive.

“So, wait- nothing happened?” Asmo whines. “ _That’s_ boring~”

“Asmo…” you sigh, covering your face with your hands.

“Not for lack of trying,” Belphie coughs into his hand, chuckling.

You smack your hands against the table. “Will you _stop_ _baiting_ them for _five seconds!?_ ” This is _exactly_ what you were talking about with him last night!

“… Yeah,” Beel agrees, his stomach gurgling. “All this fighting is upsetting my stomach.”

Belphie’s face softens regretfully at that, looking between you and his twin. “… Okay. Sorry Logan, Beel.”

With that, you’re able to retake your seat again as everyone picks up their utensils and starts eating again. Lucifer hasn’t stopped looking at you for a hot minute though, his chin resting against one gloved hand with his elbow on the table, and you can feel his gaze transfixed on you from the corner of your eye.

“… _What?_ ” you ask irritably.

“Hmm?” He clears his throat, surprised that he’s been caught staring. “Nothing.”

“Satan, you’re being _weird_ today,” Levi observes.

“… Am I?” he asks, blinking a few times as if coming out of a trance.

“Yeah, you’re being really quiet,” his otaku brother insists. “I mean if anybody is going to get mad about Belphie messing around with Logan last night…”

“Can we not start that again please?” you plead.

“Did you want to tell everyone what we found out yesterday?” Asmo suggests.

“What did you find?” Lucifer asks with interest, straightening in his seat.

Satan looks at the eldest, then over to you, flashing you a sorrowful smile. “… Not over breakfast,” he refuses. “Later today, possibly.”

“I’m confused. What’s this about?” you ask.

“… It’s nothing,” Satan assures you, a fake smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it.”

You feel like they’re hiding something important from you, but you’re content to just let it drop for now. There’s been more than _enough_ drama over the breakfast table this morning already. You go to take a sip of water, and Leviathan whips out his D.D.D. faster than your eyes can even track, snapping a few photos as soon as the plastic cup hits your lip.

“Ahahaha, so cuuute~,” he swoons. “Logan’s taking a sip from my Ruri-chan collectible cup! It’s almost like they’re _kissing~!_ Aaand _sent!_ ”


	16. Ultimatum.

Later that afternoon, Diavolo called both you and Lucifer over to the castle. His brothers protested at being separated from you and dragged away by the Prince again, but you did your best to reassure them that he wasn’t about to send you away just yet.

At least, you really _hope_ not.

After a wardrobe change with Asmo into some feminine yet less extravagant clothes (no small challenge with Asmo’s varied and colourful wardrobe), the first born brother helps you hobble over to the demon Lord’s castle with plenty of time to spare. You’re still sore all over and nursing a bad ankle, especially since it’s only been a couple of days, but you insisted that you didn’t want to be carried this time either, so the trip is longer and more laborious than before.

Barbatos opens the imposing double doors of the castle’s main entry hallway, anticipating your arrival before you even have the chance to knock.

“Master Logan, Lord Lucifer, welcome,” he bows.

“Nice to see you Barbatos,” you smile. “Oh! Those desserts you sent over yesterday were _amazing!_ I think Beel got to most of them though, despite our best efforts.”

He chuckles warmly at that. “I do _try_ to keep the Avatar of Gluttony’s appetite in mind when baking. Not to worry, though – I suppose I’ll just have to prepare some more for you soon,” he winks.

“Barbatos, do you know the reason for our arrival here today?” Lucifer asks evenly.

“My Lord did not say specifically,” the butler hums. “He is waiting in the garden for you both, if you would like to come through?”

He steps aside as Lucifer walks you into the gigantic entry hall, where you saw each other for the first time after you returned home to the human world just over a week ago. It was barely two days ago when he threw a fit over your injuries.

“Logan, are you alright?” Lucifer asks you midway through the hall.

You’re staring at the landing above. Blinking, you focus back on his face. “Sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess,” you shrug off.

You come through the double doors on the opposite side of the hall, out into the castle gardens. A winding path takes you down to a table set up not far from the gazebo with the restricted garden, the Prince already seated at it with a tea set and tray of sweets laid out in anticipation of your arrival.

He’s dressed down from how he usually is – plain black slacks and an open dress shirt flagging in the breeze. You fluster a bit and focus your eyes down on the ground ahead of you.

Diavolo stands to greet you. “Logan, Lucifer,” he beams warmly at the two of you. “Welcome.”

“… Are you feeling tired today, Lord Diavolo?” He’s not is usual overly-exuberant self.

He blinks, surprised at your question. “I was up later than usual last night, I suppose. Is it that obvious?”

“I mean,” you fret. “You don’t have bags under your eyes or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Lord Diavolo, are you feeling alright?” Lucifer asks.

He frowns. “… It _must_ be bad if _Lucifer_ is asking me how I’m doing.”

Lucifer grunts at that. “My Lord-“

The prince chuckles brightly at that. “Don’t worry old friend, I’m not offended. And I’m feeling well today, so thank you for asking,” he nods appreciatively. “But enough about me. Today is about you, Logan.”

You were worried about that. “Me?”

“… Why don’t you both take a seat?”

Lucifer helps you to one of the two available chairs as you both do as asked, Diavolo pouring you each a cup of steaming hot tea. He watches you intently as you pick up your ceramic teacup, blowing on it gently before carefully sampling it.

“Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer prompts. “May I ask why we have been called here today?”

“… I’ve made a decision,” the prince sighs heavily. “Well, part of one.”

“I don’t follow.”

The Prince folds his arms as he looks between you both. “… I’ve been trying to decide the best course of action to take in order to ensure your safety, Logan. I’ve had to call on all of the resources available to me in order to make this decision,” he reveals.

“The first thing I had to do, was to find out the identity of your attackers and their reason for doing so,” he reveals. “I enlisted Lucifer’s brothers Satan and Asmodeus to travel to the human world and discover that for me.”

“… That was their human world errand,” you realize.

He nods seriously. “They found an answer that… Forgive me, but I’ll get to that part later.”

“Next, well – you are unaware of this I’m sure, but there are certain terms I must abide by in order to maintain our cease-fire with the Celestial Realm, one of which is to avoid interfering with mortal destiny. I realized late yesterday that my involvement so far in finding you as I did, and then bringing you back here to heal, may have negatively impacted the course of your destiny, Logan.”

“You spoke with _Auriel?_ ” Lucifer asks, surprised. Diavolo nods in response.

You blink at that. “I had no idea about all of that. So, what _is_ my destiny, then?” you ask curiously. “Not that… I really want to _know_ , it’s just… I _guess_ it’s a big deal if we’re talking about it.”

The Prince grins. “They refused to say – it’s not my place to know your destiny, and it’s forbidden to be revealed to anyone by their laws. However, they gave me a hint that I may be ‘on the right track’.”

“So, _wait_ – they want you to avoid altering human destiny, but they won’t tell you what mine is?” you scoff. “That’s _lame_. How are you supposed to avoid altering it then if you aren’t even allowed to know how it’s _supposed_ to go?”

Diavolo laughs openly at that. “Honestly, I wonder sometimes! But no, the Celestial Realm has their rules and their way, especially where humans are concerned, and part of my responsibility is to make sure that we demons don’t infringe upon them.”

“The last thing I did, well, that Barbatos did for me, was to take a look at possibilities in the timelines,” he continues. “… And based on the results of that, and everything else I explored yesterday, I’ve come to the conclusion that the safest place for you, Logan, is right here in the Devildom.”

… Your hands start shaking.

“… Logan?” Lucifer asks, concerned.

You frantically try to set down the tea cup down before you spill or break it. So many emotions are racing through you right now. You grip your hands into your hair as you struggle to process this.

Diavolo’s surprised by your reaction. “Logan, are you feeling alright?”

“Do you really mean it?” you sniffle, face hot as tears start welling up in your eyes. “I can _stay??_ ”

The Prince smiles warmly at you. “Yes, Logan. I’m giving you permission to live here in the Devildom.”

Your chair falls over behind you as you practically _pounce_ on the next King in a huge hug, squeezing him tightly as you sob into the collar of his open shirt. His chest shakes as he laughs, wrapping his strong arms around you and rubbing your back.

“I know this is what you’ve been asking for all along,” he says into your hair. “I’m just sorry that I didn’t think to offer you this sooner.”

“Thank you _so much_ ,” you choke out between tears.

“Easy now. I think someone else wants a hug from you now, too, right Lucifer?”

You turn away and wipe at your face to see the Avatar of Pride standing just behind you, mouth open and a look of incredulity on his face.

“Oh _hell_ ,” you roll your eyes, laughing. “Come here big guy.”

You turn from the Prince and wrap your arms around Lucifer’s chest next, and his arms come around to hold you at your waist and neck, pressing you into him. His breath is unsteady and he rocks you in place, a laugh finally bubbling out of him in the mess of emotions.

He sounds… Genuinely _overjoyed_.

“… I hate to ruin such a wonderful moment,” Diavolo says after letting you celebrate. “But, I do have a condition for your permanent residency here in Devildom.”

You spin on your good heel and face him, determined. “Anything. Name it.”

Lucifer grips you protectively around your middle, helping to keep you upright. “Logan, perhaps we should hear what he has to say before you automatically agree?” he sighs, tucking some of your messy hair away from your face.

“If you are going to live amoung demons, then I need to know that there is someone trustworthy to always watch over you and care for you and be by your side, so I’m giving you a choice; you can either live here at the castle as my ward, or, you can marry a demon. You don’t have to decide what to do right away – I’ll give you plenty of time,” the Prince nods.

The smile falls off your face.

“… My Lord…” Lucifer immediately begins to protest.

“That’s a _big step_ ,” you fumble out. “Sorry, I mean… I don’t really know if I can do either one.”

“Logan?” the demon at your back asks. “What are you thinking right now?”

“… Can I maybe sit back down?”

“Of course.”

He fetches your chair and stands it upright once again, guiding you into your seat and tucking you in at the table, then retakes his seat across from you. You run your hands into your hair again in frustration. That’s a _really_ big decision to just _drop_ on you like that. He wants you to get _married?_ _That’s_ the condition??

“As I said,” Diavolo reminds you. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“No, but I mean- I haven’t really told either of you this, but I was engaged before,” you reveal.

They’re both shocked at the news. “You were?” Diavolo asks.

“What happened?” Lucifer follows.

“I don’t really want to get too deep into it, but- bottom line, he broke my heart and it kind of just soured my opinion on getting married altogether,” you tell them. “I feel like it’s too late now, and I’m really not as into it as I used to be.”

“Well, then you could stay at the castle instead – I certainly wouldn’t mind,” Diavolo offers genially. “Admittedly, I would appreciate the company – it gets rather quiet here.”

“… I can’t be some princess locked in a tower either,” you sigh. “Any more than Belphie can be a demon locked in an attic.”

Lucifer scowls at you, and you stick your tongue out at him in open rebellion of His Pridefulness.

“That wasn’t meant as a shot exactly, just an example. Anyways, yeah, I just… I don’t know what to _do_.”

You can’t marry _any_ of Lucifer’s brothers, you realize, because that would put one over the rest and cause even _more_ fights between them. They’ve already been at each others’ throats more than enough times since you got back barely two days ago. So where does that leave you? Locked up in Diavolo’s gigantic spooky castle for the rest of your days?

“… How much time do I have, exactly?” you ask, looking up at Diavolo.

“I can give you a year.”

“To get married? Or to decide between marrying someone or living here with you?” you clarify.

“To decide _who_ to marry, with the castle as a last resort. I would like to see either an engagement or a move-in date by then,” he chuckles. “But do try to relax, you have plenty of time ahead of you. Make yourself at home, and always let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”


	17. A Proposal or Two.

… _One year_.

Lucifer retreated to his study once more, after you were dismissed from the table so that he and Diavolo could have a private conversation over the details that he’d discovered in his search for a solution most of yesterday. He’s lounged on a couch facing the fire as he swirls Black Demonus in a glass.

The reasoning for his decision was based on several factors – one, that the magic users of the human world had targeted you because of your pacts, and thought you defenseless since they’d _also_ heard in the same breath that you have no magic of your own. This had caused _quite_ a stir in the magic community, with potentially _hundreds_ of witches looking to claim your pacts as their own.

… He _knew_ his brothers making pacts with you would only lead to trouble. No, focus Lucifer.

The next part was based on what Auriel had told him – they said that he was ‘on the right track’ and nothing else, which Diavolo took to mean that his level of involvement wasn’t inappropriate thus far as he’d suspected, so he felt that becoming more involved by offering Logan a chance to stay was the right course of action to take. He can’t fault his logic there – he remembers the archangel for their cryptic nature, but if they’d said _that much_ about it, then perhaps that phone call was part of the desired course of events? As if Diavolo was interfering as _intended_.

… The third piece of information was a bit dire – the Prince had Barbatos explore possible outcomes, in order to try and determine either your destiny, or at least the most desirable outcome for you to take. … In a lot of them, you _died_. The thought makes his stomach churn uneasily. The best possible outcome there was to keep you in the Devildom… So long as you married a demon. He refused to give specifics as to _whom_ you should marry, insisting you make that choice for yourself, with the castle as an option as well.

And you have one year to decide what to do. He rests two fingers against his temple and sighs.

There’s a knock at the entrance to his study.

“… You wanted to talk with me?”

“Come in, Belphie,” Lucifer beckons.

The Avatar of Sloth shuffles down into the sitting area, taking a seat in a lounge chair and promptly melding into it with a sigh. “Okay, okay, I admit it.”

He furrows his brow. “Admit what, exactly?”

“I’m the one that’s been moving all your stuff in your room an inch to the left,” he confesses readily. “I was honestly wondering when you’d notice – I’ve been doing it for months now. So, are you going to punish me or what?”

… He was wondering why he’d had to move everything back into place every few days. “Although that’s one mystery solved, that’s not why I asked you to come,” Lucifer states openly, setting down his glass.

“Then…?”

“I want to ask you about Logan,” he says, leaning forward on his knees. “Why does she… After what you did, how did you manage to earn her trust?”

“You mean, when I killed her.”

Belphie scoffs, glancing away into the fire as he leans into a hand.

“… Do you have any idea how long it took for her to stop flinching around me?” he asks idly. “Like _most_ of the two months I actually got to be around her. Every time I moved just a little too quickly, if my voice was just a bit too harsh or threatening, and being in my demon form was a huge no-no. After what I did to her, all I could _think_ about was ‘how can I get her to ever trust me again? To look me in the eyes and not be afraid of me?’”

“So what did you do?”

Belphegor turns and looks at him, a curious expression on his face. “You’re really asking me that, aren’t you?”

“Belphie…”

“It’s fine. I think I know why,” he smirks. “The answer is, _anything_. Everything that came to mind that would help her out, or show her how remorseful I was, or that she could feel safe with me, I did it. I apologized hundreds of times. I stuck to her like glue, staying by her side on the lookout for opportunities to help out. I told her my combination for my locker at RAD so she could help herself to my things, and I trusted her with some of my more embarrassing secrets, to see if maybe that would help me seem a bit less intimidating. Whatever it _took_. My pride took _numerous_ hits, but I cared _so much_ about Lilith, I couldn’t _stand_ the thought of her descendant hating my guts for forever because I was an idiot _one time_ and _killed_ her in _cold blood_ , someone who…”

He stops suddenly, catching his breath and sighing.

“… Someone I’m in love with,” he chuckles dryly. “That wasn’t part of the plan. I just wanted Logan to know she could trust me, and that I’d have her back next time no matter what. I wasn’t planning on falling in _love_ with her.”

A long silence stretches out between the two brothers, both of them relaxing into their chairs and looking forlornly into the rolling fire.

“… You have to tell her, you know,” Belphegor finally says, breaking the amiable silence and staring straight at his eldest brother.

“How do you mean?” Lucifer challenges.

“You love her too, right?” he frowns. “Everybody knows it, except for Logan apparently. And with Logan, you _have_ to be direct. And look - I don’t know if it’s an insecurity thing or if it’s because she’s a human, but she’s not going to just _assume_ that the Avatar of Pride is in love with her. You have to _say_ it, plain and simple. There’s just no other way.”

“And if you _are_ going to make a move, you might want to do it soon,” he adds, standing from the lounge chair and sliding his hands in his pockets. “Because I’m planning on asking her to marry me. She should at least be aware of your feelings before she says yes,” he grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go :P Might be a short one, but consider this story just about wrapped.


	18. Decision Day.

**In another time and place…**

“Fortunately, this timeline’s Barbatos has saved me a ton of effort,” the butler chuckles warmly. “He has already done the task that you requested of me, and we can just take a look at the results.”

He waves an arm over the large liquid silver surface, mist fading into the ether as two figures identical to themselves begin to take shape.

They discuss the possibilities at length. It sounds as if Logan was attacked in the human world for her pacts, and fortunately survived it, but the danger was still present and the two men are trying desperately to find a way to return her safely to her world.

The other Barbatos reveals that there are no good solutions that involve sending Logan to the human world – somehow that always seems to lead to war between the three worlds, with Logan as a casualty of it. The Prince frowns as every possibility is explored in front of him – if he had Lucifer choose a different candidate, if he’d cancelled or never started the exchange program at RAD at all, it all ended the same way, as if…

“Logan is important,” he hears himself say, and he’s taken aback at how accurate that is. “Logan is _important_ ,” Diavolo repeats for himself. “But, _why_ is she important? What is in her destiny where the consequence of her return to the human world leads to so much death and destruction?”

“Let’s keep watching, shall we my Lord?” Barbatos suggests.

It seems that there is no other choice but to have her return to the Devildom, a course of action that the archangel Auriel seems to have endorsed in a conversation between them and the Diavolo of this other timeline. So his involvement is not only _not_ inappropriate or disruptive to her destiny, it may in fact be _required_ for her to realize it.

“I can’t have a human living in the Devildom without protection, and I mean more than just the pacts she has with the brothers,” Diavolo folds his arms, frowning at the scrying pool.

“I have a suggestion.”

He hears Barbatos say it, but looking up at his butler it’s obvious that he wasn’t the one to say it. He’s looking pensively into the pool, where the other Barbatos elaborates.

“I’ve taken the liberty of looking at possibilities ahead of us, as well,” he reveals. “And it seems that, in all of the better ones, Logan is married to a demon, which helps to bring peace between the three worlds through their union.”

“Human lifespans are so much shorter than a demon’s,” other timeline Diavolo frowns. “Is such a union really all that valuable?”

“Well,” other timeline Barbatos hums teasingly. “I’m honestly not sure – the results do vary widely depending on who she marries. But, if I may say, my Lord…” he continues cryptically. “It seems that the best timeline has her marrying you.”

“M- _Me??_ ” he balks. And present timeline Diavolo can’t help but to agree.

“She makes for an excellent Queen it turns out, and I believe,” the Barbatos in the pool hums, looking upwards seemingly at them. “That another pair of us might be in the middle of making a decision on whether or not to ask.”

Barbatos chuckles next to him. “So this is what you wanted me to see, is it?” he hums cryptically. “My Lord, does that answer your question for this evening?” he asks, offering a polite bow.

Diavolo runs a hand through his hair anxiously. “… I suppose it’s what Father wants, and… Well, Logan made the short list. I guess that settles it.”

“Your orders, Master?”

“Organize permission for our transport to the human world in the morning, to Logan’s home. And arrange an appointment with the Royal Artificer for sometime tomorrow or the day after pending her response – I'm going to need the ring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Now go read my attempt at a longfic, [The Devil You Don't](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209051/chapters/55561975) for more :P
> 
>  _That's_ right, I turned this into an alternate timeline prequel fic, _whaddup._ Let me know what you thought of this mess in the comments below, or on my Tumblr [@loganthrives](https://loganthrives.tumblr.com/) :)


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